


Bombshell

by TheRedWulf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Criminal Psychology, F/M, FBI, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Forensics, Law Enforcement, Modern Era, OOC, Oral Sex, Out of Character, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Roosa - Freeform, Rough Sex, Serial Killers, forensic science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which Sansa’s new partner at the FBI is almost as cold as she is...Picset is viewableHERE,HEREandHERE





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first time tackling this pairing, but it was needed for this story...
> 
> This is going to be gory graphic, so be warned. Seriously. Serial killer graphic. 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“You want me to work with who?” Sansa questioned, walking alongside her boss as he handed her a stack of files. They were weaving their way through cubicles and offices on the way to their destination. 

“Bolton” Commander Tywin Lannister repeated without turning back to make sure was keeping pace. 

“With all due respect sir, that is well above my---”

“It isn’t now” he cut in. “You will be running co-lead on the bombshell murders.”

“Oh” her steps faltered and then she was running to keep up with the taller man’s strides. “Sir---”

He whirled on her, glaring down at her from his imposing height, “Its Bolton or Baelish, have your pick?” 

“I already told you I refuse to work with Baelish” she stated plainly. Just the thought of Baelish had her skin crawling. “Besides, he’s suspended---”

“There you go then, Stark” he turned back and was walking once more. 

“Sir---”

“Enough, Stark” he rolled his eyes as he used his key card to open the door to forensics and she followed behind. 

“Bolton” Lannister barked into the lab and Sansa heard the rolling of a stool across the linoleum an instant before the man came into view. 

Dr. Roose Bolton. Special Agent. Genius. Best of the best. Madman. Or so she was told, she had read about him and his methods of tracking down the worst criminals the FBI had ever dealt with. He was the man they called in when everything else went to shit and there was no one else twisted enough to get into the mind of a murderer. 

She had gone to one of his lectures once, during her post-grad courses. A few students had left sick to their stomachs at his lecture content, but Sansa had found him and his aloof nature fascinating. He would talk about serial murders pulling the flesh from their victims’ bones as if he were discussing what to cook for dinner. It was ...fascinating. 

Physically, he was rather unassuming, sitting on the stool in his lab coat and black suit. His black framed glasses complimented his rugged face shape, well-kept beard and short, greying hair. While he was not a large man, perhaps an inch or so taller than her own 5’11”, he had a commanding presence all the same. She remembered from his lectures that he was tall and broad, stocky, moreso that lean and completely in control at all times.

Slowly, he unfolded himself from the stool and removed his nitrile gloves, “Commander Lannister” his voice was deep, smooth and laden with a thick Irish brogue, It seemed to soak right into her skin, clouding her mind. “To what do I owe the honor of such pleasurable company” his eyes, a startling shade of ice-blue raked over her and she clenched her jaw. 

She turned away from the man’s examination to see the body laid out on the cold metal table. The woman, the most recent victim, was fully nude and pinned open, her chest cavity spread wide. That however, wasn’t nearly as disturbing as the bruising across the woman’s cheeks, neck and forehead.

Sansa’s eyes lingered on the woman’s fire-red hair, a color she knew all too well but hid with expensive salon visits. That was what had prompted her to ask to assist on this assignment. All of the women, 5 so far, were young, beautiful and with bright red hair. Hair exactly like the color she was born with. 

They dubbed them the ‘Bombshell Murders’ because the women were all stunningly beautiful--or at least they were until the killer got ahold of them, with pale skin and bright red hair.

“I bring your new partner, Special Agent Sansa Stark,” Commander Lannister spoke. “She’s well versed in the crime scenes and will be an asset to your investigation.”

“Indeed?” Roose’s gaze moved over her before he gave a very slight shrug. “Alright, set your things down and we can continue going over the autopsy with Dr. Pycelle.”

Sansa set her purse and files on the empty desk and, with a nod to her commander, grabbed a lab coat and pulled it on. The sound of the door closing told her that the commander had gone, leaving her alone with the mad doctor. 

“You’re the one who worked with Baelish on the Reyne murders” Bolton noted. 

“I am” she replied. 

“Impressive” he gave a droll look and refocused on the dead body on the table. 

Sansa listened as they spoke, cataloging the woman’s injuries and their speculations on what had been done to her before she was killed. She made a few mental notes to research later, wondering at which point she had come to look at a dead body in such a cold, clinical way. 

The office phone rang and Pycelle excused himself. Moving to the man’s notes she glanced over them briefly. 

“Tell me, Special Agent Stark” Bolton asked, his smooth voice pulling her from the notes to focus on him. He held the woman’s battered spleen, looking closely at the wounds. “Sharp incisions punctuated by a v-pattern, thoughts?”

Testing me then, she grimaced before she spoke. “Back of a hammer, rat tail pry bar?”

“Very good” he nodded. “The hammer, I should think. Would be consistent with the damage to her skull.”

“There is no need to test me, Dr. Bolton,” she stated. “I am a competent agent with an exemplary record and a PhD in--”

“Forensic Psychology, I know” he replaced the woman’s spleen with an odd smile. 

“You’ve researched me” she felt decidedly unsettled. 

“I have read about you, yes,” he admitted. “You are a beautiful woman with a sharp mind, forgive me if you piqued my interest.”

“As long as you didn’t get caught masturbating to my file in your office, I’d say you’re a step ahead of Baelish” she quipped and he laughed, the sound surprisingly pleasant, his eyes crinkling with mirth. 

“Nothing so vulgar” he assured her. “I was impressed with your work on the Reyne case, I know Commander Lannister was very keen on seeing that case brought to a water tight close.”

“He was” she agreed. “I was determined to bring those little girls justice.”

“So much so that you put yourself undercover and in harm’s way” Bolton countered. “Either very brave or very stupid.”

“It certainly felt stupid when Reyne stuck his hand was between my legs” Sansa looked to the dead body’s ear and noticed that she had bit impressions along the lobe. Frowning she grabbed Pycelle’s files and flipped through them. “He didn’t notate these, did you see them?” 

Bolton frowned and rounded to her side, leaning to look where she was motioning, “Teeth” he said simply. 

“And not her own” Sansa said sarcastically. 

“A unique impression, the incisors appear to be crooked” Roose said and Sansa looked closer, seeing the deviance he was looking at. 

“That should be a rather good indicator when we finally have a suspect” she nodded, turning to look at her new partner, forgetting how close they were. She could smell his cologne and the rich scent of cigars on him, a very masculine combination. 

He turned to look at her, their faces inches apart and she wondered how eyes could be so blue. The sound of Pycelle returning broke their heated stare and she stood, moving back from him. 

Roose was very aware of just who had walked in behind Commander Tywin Lannister. The moment he saw her he recognized her; Sansa Stark, age 29 and terribly brilliant. Of course, she was also impossibly beautiful, but that was second to her mind, in his book. 

When she had asked to work on the Bombshell case, it had come across his desk and he had immediately asked Commander Lannister to give her to him as a partner. He was greatly looking forward to watching her work in first hand. 

He was aware of what they said about him around the Bureau. “Mad Max” he’d overheard once, the man they called in when everything was too overwhelming for them, when it was too disgusting. He wasn’t quite as sick as they made him out to be, he just seemed to have a high tolerance for violence. 

Perhaps it was his tumultuous upbringing, a home constantly torn by domestic violence. Or perhaps it was his cold disconnection from the human race at large, disillusionment on a wide scale. He had seen the filthiest of the human race and he removed himself from their stain, standing back and watching them consume each other. 

A sociopath, his ex-wife had called him the day she packed her belongings and left. However he could not find fault in wanting to remove oneself from the world at large. Now he was dedicated to his work, tracking down and arresting those who were truly sick, truly twisted. A task he felt that Sansa Stark could assist him with. 

Once they finished with Pycelle, he watched as she gathered her purse and files before opening the door so they could exit the morgue. They kept stride, moving together as he escorted her to their new offices. Sharing an office with her would be an adventure, he supposed. Currently the largest wall was covered in rather graphic photos of the autopsies, not images for the weak of stomach. 

Opening the door she moved to the empty desk before facing the wall with clinical disinterest, vibrant blue eyes tracing over every detail. She showed no evidence of disgust or fear, just an analytic mind drinking it all in. 

“Tell me” he asked as he moved to his desk, removing his lab coat to hang it on the coat rack near his bookshelf. “What do you see?”

She looked over every photograph before she answered, “A man who is angry--not with women, just with the world” she said thoughtfully. “I see a man who can’t control his violence. The kidnappings are controlled, clean, but the murders are brutal, violent, blind with rage.”

“And?”

“Strong women, or the appearance of sexually strong women terrify him” she spoke, a hand reaching out to touch the hair of the first victim in a photograph. “He hates red….”

“Red hair has always been controversial,” he stated. “In Medieval and Renaissance times it was a sign of madness, of sin.”

“I know” she said quietly. “In some religious groups it is still considered a sin, a sign of the Devil’s mark upon a young woman. Perhaps we’re looking at an extremist?”

“It is possible” he sat on the edge of his desk watching her. Though she wore a drab tan suit and white blouse, she was still stunning. Her hair, however made him frown. It was bleached, obviously, though well done. He wondered then if she was a brunette, or perhaps…

“He rapes them, but after they’re already dead” she moved to another file and report clipped to the board. “He cannot stand their fight….he’s...could he be afraid of them?” she asked, turning to face him and he gave a nod. 

“It is possible, child of a single mother, strict parenting” he said once more. “He is strong, but there is too much rage, too much violence for him to be completely in control.”

“A short man then” she smirked, turning back to the board. 

“Likely so” he agreed. 

“Dr. Bolton--”

“Call me Roose, I insist.”

“Roose” she gave a small smile, turning from the wall of photos. “Are you hungry?” she checked her watch. “We missed lunch.”

“Starved” he told her, impressed that she seemed to be almost as cold as he was. It took a special kind of person to look at a wall covered in crime and still want lunch.

“There’s a nice barbeque place up the street--”

“Sounds perfect” he smiled, his lips unfamiliar with the motion and he hoped he didn’t look like the madman they claimed him to me. 

“Good” she grabbed her purse and strode from the room, leaving him to follow in her wake. 

And follow he did.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for the support on this! I was overwhelmed by your love and positivity! I hope I can do this pairing justice!
> 
> Reminder, the sharable picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

Tucked into a corner booth near the back of the restaurant, Roose observed Sansa as she seemed to rather enjoy her brisket sandwich. She was a rare woman, he mused as he enjoyed his own pulled pork sandwich, one who could look at a wall of gore and then order brisket. 

“So what do we know” Sansa mumbled, swallowing her mouthful of food with a smile. “5 women, all tall and ginger” she reasoned and he nodded. 

“Killed elsewhere and dumped, posed awkwardly, down to the hands” he added. 

“Right, it is very meticulous” Sansa took another bite as she pondered. 

“Sexual trauma occurs after death, and he’s a large man judging by the damage” Roose continued. “He’d have to be for this level of damage to the face and body.”

“A hammer in the right hands could achieve that easily enough” Sansa smirked. “And no matter what he thinks, no man’s cock is big enough to literally destroy a pussy, Roose.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle then, “I suppose that is a theory to test another time.”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she wiped her mouth, “Speaking of theories, tell me” she leaned closer. “Did you really put on Tarbeck’s jogging suit? I heard you wore it around the office and were even spotted beating a ballistics dummy with his golf clubs.”

“Ah” he shook his head. “No, I managed to find an exact copy on eBay and did the blood splatter tests in that to compare. I am nothing if not thorough.” He didn’t feel the need to add that he had seriously considered putting the original tracksuit on, just for fuckery’s sake. 

“I thought it might’ve been a rumor” she continued eating, glancing around the barbecue joint. 

He observed her, trying to sort out the puzzle that was Special Agent Sansa Stark. Bleach blonde hair, tastefully done and quite a considerable amount of makeup. A woman concerned with her appearance or a woman hiding something. 

He was inclined to believe the latter. 

She was still quite beautiful, striking in her tall, golden beauty. Her youthful beauty should, at the very least, make him feel old, perhaps lecherous. But he felt neither of those things and instead felt invigorated, desirous. 

Desire, however, seemed to be the part in his life where he did not excel. After his divorce he had, admittedly, indulged on his lecture tour, taking any post-grad beauty he could, but he never felt any sort of connection, physical or otherwise with them. So he had withdrawn from the world of women and focused on his job instead. A job that seemed to bother the women anyway. 

As he watched the curve of her jaw her chewing came to a stop and she faced him once more. 

“You’re staring” she pointed out. 

“Forgive me,” he said quickly. “I rather think of people as puzzles, trying to sort them out in my mind, to unearth their secrets.”

“Some secrets are better left buried” she said quietly. 

“Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old,” he said thoughtfully and saw her swallow thickly. 

“Isaiah 43:18” she whispered, the light fading from her eyes. 

There it was, he noted clinically. The chink in Sansa’s armor. “Religious upbringing?”

“You could say that” she returned to her sandwich, ending his line of questioning. They ate in companionable silence, both finishing their sandwiches before she spoke once more. “Wait---do you think the post-mortem shallow cut across the throat is to signify beheading?” 

He thought for several moments before he nodded, “It is possible. Actual beheading would be incredibly messy, hard to transport and clean up.”

“So, he finds a woman, lures her to his car or however he does it, kills them with a few hours of them being reported missing and dumps them along waterways and rivers,” she said. 

“Close but not close enough to wash away evidence” he added. 

“If you’re there, why not dump them into the river and be done with it?” she asked, somewhat rhetorically but he found himself diving into the killer’s mindset to sort it out. 

“They want her intact” he said simply. “They want her posed, beautiful but destroyed on the banks of the river. Water would cause bloat and in a few hours the skin would be akin to wet bread.”

“Right" she rubbed her temples. "So they have to be beautiful, or at the very least _human_. What’s that verse in Revelation? About the water of life?” she asked. 

“Chapter 22, verse 1” he said. “Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.”

“And right before it ‘Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life’,” she frowned. “They’re impure, they cannot enter the waters---they’re martyrs!”

“An extremist then” Roose smiled. She truly was brilliant. 

“This isn’t rage” she wiped her hands with a wet nap. “This is Divine Vengeance.” 

With that she was bolting from the booth, forgetting her purse as she went. Roose grabbed her bag with a laugh, following after her. She ran into the used book shop across the way and he followed, once again. For the first time in his life he found himself the ‘Watson’ to another’s ‘Sherlock’, and he was decidedly intrigued.

Sansa searched through the shelves of the theology section, looking for several titles as her brain raced. She noticed the tremble in her hand as she traced the spine of several books and quickly clenched her fist to hide it. 

_Keep it together_ she warned herself, refocusing on the task at hand. All of this was hitting closer to home than she would have anticipated. The hair, the religious undertones that were suddenly glaring at her in the face. She hoped this wasn’t a monstrous mistake, asking to work these murders. 

_ “Are you sure you want this?” Commander Lannister asked her, his voice soft in the dim light of his office._

_ She nodded, “I am. I need to do this…”_

_ “I won’t pretend to be ignorant as to why” he gave a curt nod. “I will see what I can do, just...be careful.”_

_ “Always.” _

Roose, however, was proving quite interesting. Not the madman she was expecting but a calm, cool man who drank in every detail around him and sought to make sense of it. He had stared at her for a while during lunch, making her grateful for the expensive foundation she wore to cover the complexion that would give her secret away. 

Spotting a decent copy of the King James Bible she grabbed it before continuing on. The book felt heavy in her arms, hot and sinister. Swallowing she turned and thrust the book into Roose’s hands, grateful that her purse was over his forearm. 

“Cute” she nodded to the purse on his arm. “Not your style, I think.”

“I should think not,” he replied, his deep voice laced with laughter. 

She turned back to the shelves and smiled, “Martyrs in Extremism” she said as she grabbed the thick book, then impulsively grabbed ‘Early Christian Martyrs’ as well. “Okay” she made her way to the front of the store to pay and Roose stood with her. When the elderly cashier told her the total she turned to Roose and grabbed her purse with a smile. 

“Alright, I am curious” Roose asked as they walked back up the sidewalk. He still carried the Bible, but she was rifling through the other books as they moved. 

“You remember earlier when we talked about the red hair in some religious communities?” she flipped through the pages. “What if these aren’t murders, what if these women are being saved?”

“Saved?”

“Absolved of their sins, the sin of their hair, of the Devil’s touch” she continued. “You have a barista, an investor, a stay at home mom, a receptionist and a real estate agent, the only common thread is their appearance.”

“Obviously” he replied. “Absolved of sins, so why the---oh” he opened the book in his hand, flipping through the Old Testament. “They’re being ‘stoned’ to death.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, drawing the attention of others on the sidewalks. “Yes! They’re stoned---that verse, Deuteronomy, I forget but it's about a girl who was raped but didn’t cry out.”

Her partner flipped quickly and found it, “If there is a girl who is a virgin engaged to a man, and another man finds her in the city and lies with her, then you shall bring them both out to the gate of that city and you shall stone them to death; the girl, because she did not cry out in the city, and the man, because he has violated his neighbor's wife. Thus you shall purge the evil from among you.”

“Purge the evil among you, yes!” she repeated to herself as they reached the FBI building entrance. “So the rape after death, that is to bring the message home. That’s why there is no semen, it's a brutal translation not sexual gratification! Roose, I could kiss you!” she laughed as they entered and made their way back to their offices. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t stop you” he smirked as they crossed to the elevators. 

Sansa only smirked as she stepped into the elevator car, keying them up to their office level. Let’s be honest, she wouldn’t stop herself either, which is exactly why she had to tread carefully.

They rode in silence, both of their minds rapidly sorting through their new epiphanies, wondering what sort of monster they were tracking. As the doors opened, she was surprised to see Commander Lannister in the doorway, a file in hand. 

“Sir?” Bolton asked. 

“You’ve got a sixth body” Tywin handed Sansa the folder. “And you, my office” he said to Roose. 

“I’ll wait for you, we can drive to the scene together” Sansa told Roose before ducking away to their office. 

Roose followed Commander Lannister to his office and shut the door behind himself, “Sir?”

“There is no need to sit, this will be brief” Lannister began. “You need to keep an eye on Stark.”

“An eye?” Roose’s eyes narrowed, unable to discern the Commander’s meaning through his impassive facade. 

“Yes, keep her safe, Bolton. Or it's your ass” Lannister said. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir” Bolton gave a nod at his boss’ cryptic words, and with that Lannister waved him from the office, effectively dismissing him. 

Frowning, Roose made his way to his office where Sansa sat, looking sickly pale as she stared at a photo of the newest body. Moving to her side he saw the note nailed to the woman’s chest and he felt both revulsion and excitement. There had never had a note before, this was new and could help them track this man down. 

“For Alayne” he read aloud and noticed Sansa’s slight flinch. The Commander’s words echoed in his mind and he wondered just _what_ Sansa was hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

Roose piloted their federal town car down the road as Sansa continued reviewing the files. As he drove he could hear her softly talking to herself, mumbling before making notes on the laptop attached to the car’s center console and dash. She had book tucked on the dashboard, her lap and against his thigh. She was lost in her own world, spiraling down a rabbit hole of research. 

The crime scene was several hours away, the body had been found along a riverbed and local police were protecting the scene. Crime scene units were ahead of them by a half hour or so, but soon they would be able to see the whole picture and not just a cell phone photo of the body with the note on its chest. 

“As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up, Roose?” Sansa asked him out of the blue, her eyes still going over the photos of previous crime scenes. 

“That was a long time ago” he thought aloud. 

“44 is not that old” she laughed softly, setting her papers down to look over at him, her cheeks flushed and bright. 

“Now who is researching who” he countered. 

“I knew that before we worked together, I went to one of your lectures as a post-grad” she replied. 

“You’re not making me feel any younger,” he said. 

“If you don’t want to answer---”

“A knight” he smiled, pulling their car off the highway exit as navigation instructed. 

“I wanted to be a princess,” she laughed. “What a pair we are.”

“Relics of lost times, I suppose” he focused on the road. “Now we’re here in suits with guns.”

“Not a far cry from a knight” she reasoned. 

“But quite a distance from a princess” he said and she frowned, giving a sad smile. 

“Life happens” she turned back to her papers. 

“Which lecture?” he asked before he could stop himself. 

“It was on understanding the different methods of violence, flaying, burning and whatnot, and the motives behind them,” she replied. 

“And did you leave puking?”

“What do you think?” she turned, smirking at him and he laughed.

“Foolish me.”

It was nearly dusk as they neared the scene, he knew that his thoughts should be on the awaiting investigation, but his thoughts were still on his mysterious partner. She ran hot and cold, something while not unusual for women, intrigued him. Her eyes, a sea blue, betrayed her emotions and she felt them deeply, he could tell. 

She was hiding something, something important. The Commander knew, or at least had an inkling, but Sansa herself was a closed book. He’d begun compiling clues, of her and her past, but he was still missing the vital pieces he needed to sort her out. 

What he did know, however, was that he wasn’t the only one that felt the sexual tension between them. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she bit her lower lip and the electricity that seemed to bounce between them. They had been working together for only a day, but everything had clicked into place, both in their investigation and partnership. It was an odd feeling for a man who had been a loner since the third grade.

“Gods” Sansa sighed, tucking her files away as they drove past the huge assembly of media being held at bay. Reporters and photographers were yelling questions and taking photos as they drove by. She raised a hand to shield her face, sinking into her chair. 

“Sansa?” he asked. 

“Next time let’s try to beat the press here” she said quietly as he parked the car with the crime scene van, well inside the perimeter. She was out the door and moving before he could ask what she was hiding leaving him to follow. Something of a habit already.

Sansa swallowed back a wave of bile as she looked at the girl laying it he grass. She was young, perhaps 18 to 20 years of age, and once had been incredibly beautiful. Now she lay on her back in the grass, her hair spread around her in a halo, brutally beaten to death. 

Sansa moved to the girls bare feet, listening as the crime scene units gave her and Roose the rundown. Initially it was the same M.O. as the others, but there was no sign of sexual trauma, and the pose was new. Her hands were placed over her heart, fingers broken as usual but they covered her heart and framed the note nailed to her sternum.

She looked to Roose, who’s eyes were narrowed as well and she moved to his side. Facing him, away from the body she whispered, “This is different, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Roose said without looking at her. “We’ll walk the scene, work our paces. There is reverence here.” 

“This girl” Sansa glanced to the body. “She’s special, to whoever did this, she is special.”

“I agree” he said softly. “You start bottom right, I will start top left.” She nodded in agreement and grabbed the gloves from her pocket and got to work. 

Hours passed as Sansa and Roose worked side by side with the crime scene team, cataloging and examining all of the evidence. It as well past dark, nearing dawn by the time they started to wrap up. 

Sansa stretched her neck as she stood and her eye caught one of the local officers tromping through her crime scene. 

“Hey Rookie! Get the fuck out of my crime scene! What the fuck are you thinking, flat foot?!” she yelled, turning towards him but in an instant Roose was in front of her, keeping her back. “Where’d you go to the academy, PlaySkool? You stupid---”

“Easy, Lass” Roose said quietly against her ear and she felt his voice travel straight to her blood stream, thick and heady like a drug. He was holding her to his side now, chest to chest and she could smell his cologne once more. “Easy.”

“He’s ruining---”

“I know” his blue eyes bore through her. “But if you make him cry, you’ll upset his friends. Forget him, focus on me.”

“Fuck him and his friends” she said softly, eyes still on Roose. Their heights were similar enough that they were eye to eye, sharing breaths. Her world narrowed to him, focused on matching his breathing and forgetting about the stupid fuck who tramped through her crime scene. 

“Good” he watched her closely and she found herself looking at the few threads of silver in his beard and temple. His hand was at her waist beneath her blazer, thumb rubbing against the fabric of her shirt above her gun. Instinct should have had her shoving him away but her body inherently trusted his, matched his. “We good?” he asked and she gave a slight nod. “And they said we Irish had tempers” he mouth twitched into a smirk and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

He moved away, leaving her feeling oddly bereft as he faced her, “Thank you” she said softly. 

“No need to thank me,” he replied. “It was purely selfish, I don’t feel like getting into a brawl with the locals. Tomorrow maybe, not today.”

“Not today” she agreed with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. 

“I think we’ve done all we can here tonight, let’s go eat something disgustingly greasy and find a hotel” he suggested and she agreed. 

“Greasy food, I am there” she nodded, sending one last glare to the wide-eyed rookie before turning away to follow her partner.

A few hours later found them in an all-night diner across the street from the hotel they had checked into, relaxed into a padded booth with cups of decaf in-hand. 

“I believe this is the first time I have shared two consecutive meals with a woman in a decade” Roose said with a chuckle after the ordered their ‘dinners’. 

“I can’t say I’ve shared two consecutive meals with a woman before” she couldn’t help but tease. “A man however, it has been a hot minute.” 

“No young boyfriend clamoring for your attention, then?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t waste time on the young bucks. My last was substantially older than me” she quipped and leaned forward. “No beautiful co-ed clamoring for yours?”

“Not in a long time” he replied smoothly. “Seems some women find the reality of my job rather disgusting.”

“Called you a sociopath then, did she?” Sansa replied and had the pleasure of watching him lean back in the booth, eyes crinkled with amusement. 

“Just so” he sipped his coffee. 

“It’s a requirement, to some degree” Sansa gave a small shrug. “If I was emotionally invested in every case I worked I would have quit the first time I had to help cut someone’s ribs to open their chest cavity.”

He watched her closely for several seconds before he spoke, “I get the feeling you don’t emotionally invest in much.”

“Now you sound like my ex” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“You mean Commander Lannister?” he asked plainly. 

“Ahh, he gave you the talk then” she nodded, staring into her mug. She was surprised that Tywin had given Roose the talk so quickly, the murders must really have him on edge. 

Her relationship with Tywin had lasted just over a year and had been quite passionate despite a near 30 year age difference. They had met through work, obviously, she had been instantly in awe of the fierce commander she’d been assigned to. While she would always care for him, they were in different places in their lives, wanted different things, and thus had chosen to remain friends only. 

“His warning combined with your clue on your last lover being older than you, wasn’t too hard to put together” he shrugged. 

“I’d ask if you think less of me for fucking the boss, but I really don’t care” she replied. 

“He’s in love with you?” 

“He said as much” she paused, then added. “He didn’t want more children, can’t have more, and eventually I want them. Amongst other issues. Hence the parting of the ways.”

“He knows your secrets then?” Roose asked and she felt her blood chill. 

“Some of them.”

“Who knows all of them?”

“Only me” she countered as their food arrived. “They’re not worth knowing anyway.”

“I thoroughly doubt that” he said, his blue eyes full of curiosity that made her uneasy. 

“Sometimes secrets are what get people hurt” she said quietly, picking up her bacon burger. “Eat, we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”


	4. Part 4

“Is she always like this?” the Chief of the local police, Barristan Selmy, asked Roose softly as Sansa paced the conference room, talking to herself. 

“Yes, I believe so” Roose smiled, watching his partner as she paused, looking to several books on the table before continuing. 

“Roose! I need you!” she yelled a moment later and he chuckled to himself, making his way into the room. 

They had been in the small town for nearly a week now, covering every inch of the crime scene and dissecting the victim’s life. The girl, only 18 years old, had been working her summer job when she was reported missing and the small town was devastated at her loss. 

Rumors of the FBI’s appearance in town had spread like wildfire and now they found themselves being watched by the local police and citizens alike. 

“You called?” he asked, breaking her from the trance of her pacing. 

“Grab my throat” she asked, moving around the table. “We’re about the same height, this should work.” His eyes narrowed but he followed her instructions, wrapping one hand around her throat. “See that?” she motioned to the angle of his fingers. 

Looking closely he frowned, “Parallel” he nodded. 

“I think the killer _is_ short” she pointed to the crime scene photos. "These women, they’re all 5’8” and up, all the ligature marks are at an upward angle” he released her and she moved away. “So did anyone in town see a small man around? The nail, it isn’t new, its old. Maybe it is handmade? Not a blacksmith but surely something similar.”

“Biblical accuracy, I suppose” he moved to the photos of the victim and looked closely. “No teeth marks.”

“The girl, she was special, she was a virgin” Sansa flipped through her paperwork. “She was untouched, and the killer left her that way.”

“Then why ‘stone’ her to death? That breaks the pattern” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” she looked at the photos, flipping through them and examining them. “She’s laid out like a damned Millais painting, a maiden on the shore.”

“A maiden then” Roose frowned. “She’s a pure sacrifice.”

“To what?” Sansa shook her head. “No, I wonder if their mind is slipping. I wonder if they’re losing sight of their own path” Sansa rubbed her face and he could tell she was exhausted, not sleeping. The hotel rooms they had taken up residence in were rarely used, as they were working all hours to figure things out. They’d been forced on the second day to travel to a local big box shop to grab fresh clothing to wear. Rushing to a crime scene didn’t exactly give them time to pack a bag. “Religious extremists can’t tell the difference between divine motivation and madness. Perhap they’re all the same thing…”

“The note would allude to that” he grabbed a photo of the woman’s chest and read the note once more. “For Alayne.” Once again Sansa flinched and he moved to the conference room door, closing it firmly. “What are you hiding from me?” 

She took a deep breath and he watched her pinch the bridge of her nose. 

“I knew a girl named Alayne” she said quietly, the words hard to push past the lump in her throat. “Growing up.”

“And?” Roose prompted, looking skeptical. 

“She’s dead” she told him, her voice flat. “Has been for over a decade.”

“So why write her a note?” he asked, pacing toward her. 

“I don’t know” she lied. 

“You do know, but you’re not telling me” he countered and she almost flinched at his tone. 

“Roose---”

“Does Lannister know? Is this why he felt the need to warn me?” he asked, dropping the photo to the table. 

“Alayne is dead” she repeated. “I watched her die.”

“They _why_ the note?”

“To get my attention maybe?” she suggested, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow as it felt. 

“If you’re impeding this case--”

“Fuck you” she spat. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Dr. Bolton!”

“I know you’re hiding things, I know you’re lying” he argued. “I know that whatever this is” he picked up the photo of the note once more, waving it in front of her. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

“It’s my job---”

“Fuck your job, you’re a damned liar, Sansa Stark” he glared, rounding the table. Their bodies were inches apart now and she could feel the thrum of electricity echoing from his body to hers. That tension, the one that had been there since the moment they met in the morgue, threatened to spill free. “Perhaps if it was whispered across a pillow, after I fucked you into the mattress, you’d tell me!” he growled.

“You son of a bitch” she hissed, glaring up at him as her blood raced. 

“Tell me” his voice dropped dangerously low as he loomed over her. Both of them were breathing heavily now, fury coursing through them both. “What are you hiding!”

A knock sounded at the door and then it opened, one of the local officers popping his head inside, “Uh, excuse me, the victim’s father has arrived back in town. You asked me to tell you---”

“Get out” they both said at the same time and the cop jumped in surprise, slamming the door as he went. 

“Why can’t you trust me?” he asked her, his eyes melting into something softer than rage. 

“Trust isn’t an easy thing when you’ve lived my life” she said quietly. 

“Perhaps if you truly wanted justice for these women you would be honest with your partner” he threatened, stepping back. 

“That is highly unfair” she spat. 

“Life’s unfair, darling,” he countered. “You’re scared of the press, you’re scare of the Bible, you're scared of your appearance, what the _fuck_ are you hiding---”

“A lot, actually, and most of it is none of your business!” she lashed out, hating that he saw through her. That he saw _her_. How dare he. 

“If it related to this case, it _is_ my business!” he all but yelled. 

“What was your childhood like, Roose?” 

Her switch in gears took him off guard, “What?”

“Your childhood? What was it like” she asked again. 

“My father was an abusive alcoholic” he said simply. “Any night he didn’t hit my mother was a good night.”

She hadn’t expected that, the cold tone of his voice as he spoke of the violence from his youth. Oddly it made sense. It explained why he had kept to himself for so long, why he observed people from a distance and why he appeared to be unfeeling. He had learned, as she had, to shut himself down. To close himself off. 

She gave a grim nod, her eyes full of sadness, “Consider it a walk in the park compared to mine” she grabbed her suit jacket and pulled it on. With a final glare she strode from the room, leaving him to follow. 

Roose threw the photos onto the table and cursed softly. 

She had gotten under his skin. In less than a week she had managed to wheedle her way past his cold defenses and bury herself firmly beneath his skin. She was brilliant, infuriating and had more secrets than anyone he’d ever met. There was a sadness in her eyes that crept in when she wasn’t guarding herself, a pain unspeakably deep that it hurt to see. 

He needed to call Lannister, to ask him to tell him everything he knew of Sansa. Tell him her secrets, what she kept so artfully hidden from the world. 

It wouldn’t help, he ground his teeth. Tywin loved her, he wouldn’t betray her in this way. 

It was the punishment of the gods, he supposed, sending a woman as cold and clinical as he was to torment him. 

Cursing once more he followed her path to see her waiting for him outside of the conference room that held the victim’s father. Her face was free of anger now and instead was a cold mask of indifference, which was far worse. 

“Ready?” she asked him. 

“Ready” he agreed and she opened the door. 

Dinner that night was a silent, awkward affair, neither of them conceding an inch more than they had to. They had spent hours talking with the victim’s father. They’d tried to list her friends, her circle at school, her future plans, but the father had been less than helpful. He worked two jobs and was hardly home, so in this case, he had less information that the school’s principal had. 

They’d ended their conversation with the man and returned to the conference room to pick up their files and head out for the evening. The victim's body had been transported to Pycelle and he was combing over every detail he could, promising to report back to them soon. 

So they’d gotten in the car and headed back to the diner that had become their regular dining place, not surprising given it was the only place in town. 

It was as she pushed a meatball around her plate that Sansa finally spoke, “I am sorry about your father” she said so softly he almost didn’t hear her. 

“It was a long time ago,” he replied. “He died when I was seventeen. It certainly shaped who I am, how cold I am, but it doesn’t control my life today.”

“You’re lucky” she cut the meatball in half and slowly took a bite, chewing as if the food was made of ash before she swallowed. 

“Lucky he’s dead or lucky it doesn’t control me?” he watched her closely. 

“Both” she admitted. “Is it why you went into this line of work, rather than knighthood?”

“It seemed that there was a serious lack of horses, and as such being a knight was out of the question” he replied dryly. 

“The world was fresh out of need for princesses too” she mused, her full lips curving into a smile. 

“Relics of times passed” he raised his coffee cup in mock salute. 

“So is it?” she prompted. 

“Is it what?”

“Your father, is he why you’re in this line of work?” 

“No” he shook his head. “At least, not entirely. I have always felt a disconnection to those around me. Some boys rode bikes, others played with G.I. Joes, I liked to observe. I was an odd child to be sure.”

She nodded, eating the other half of her meatball, “Do you want children of your own?”

“One day” he reasoned. “My ex-wife wasn’t keen on the idea. She didn’t want a child with my...disposition.”

“Sounds like you married a real winner” she laughed softly. 

“Yes, well, that was short-lived anyway” he chuckled, though the sound held no amusement. 

“To short-lived” she raised her own glass of lemonade with a smirk. “May we find someone as twisted as we are.”

“Indeed” he raised his glass and they lapsed back into their silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are killing me with this love! <3 <3 Here, take some more.....

_ “Shave her head” the voice in the darkness said coldly. _

_ “No, please!” the little girl begged, crying to the captors she couldn’t see. "Please no!!" So far in her short life she had learned that there are many kinds of darkness. They grey darkness when they brought her a piece of bread and tepid broth to eat. The wet darkness that seeped into her body and made her feel sick. The cold darkness when the voices came...when the terror came..._

_ The sound of the cutters broke into the darkness and fear choked her throat shut, sending her gasping for air. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she screamed. _

Roose had jolted awake at the scream, reaching for his gun before he paused, thinking he might have dreamed it. When several minutes passed his muscles relaxed and he was about to return to sleep when he heard the sound of a door.

Moving to the window he watched Sansa as she left her room and made her way across the street to the liquor store. She returned a short while later, hands in her pockets so whatever she had bought was relatively small. He frowned deeply as she returned to her room and silence hung heavy in the air. 

Quickly he pulled on his slacks and undershirt, grabbing his room key he went to her door. Taking a deep breath he knocked. 

“What” her voice was soft, rough on the other side of the door. 

“Are you alright?” he asked and she gave a chortling laugh. 

"Just peachy” she replied. 

“Drinking won’t fix it” he said quietly against the wood of the door. 

“Can I trust you, Roose?” she asked after a long pause.

“Yes.”

“I mean really trust you” she whispered, her face obviously close to the door. “Because I can't ...I can’t….”

“Sansa open the door,” he pleaded. 

“Promise me” she asked. 

“I promise,” he told her and he heard the door unlatch. She wore only her undershirt and a pair of black panties, a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand. She looked small, young and afraid, he saw it in her eyes. But it was the sudden appearance freckles across her cheeks and nose that gave him pause. She wore no makeup and he could see clearly that which she tried so hard to hide.

Moving aside she allowed him inside, closing the door behind him. She offered the bottle to him and he shook his head. 

“I don’t drink” he told her. 

“Smart” she set the nearly full bottle on the television stand. “I am sorry if I woke you.”

“You’re a woman with a great many secrets” he noted and she laughed, running a hand through her damp hair. 

“You won’t blame me” she sighed. “When you know…” she looked to the room behind her and saw the photos of the crime scenes laid out in meticulous order. Her laptop and notepad sat with them, the Bible open and a verse, he could not tell which one, was circled in red sharpie a dozen times. 

“Tell me” he urged. She shook her head and reached for the bottle once more but he stayed her hand.

“Roose--”

“It won’t dull the ache” he told her. “It will only delay the inevitable.”

“What do you know about the ache” she tore her hand from his, pacing toward the bed and back. “What do you know about the fucking ACHE!?” she yelled, her voice edging on panic. 

“Sansa” he soothed her, moving closer to pull her into his embrace. Her hysteria waned, breathing evened and soon her hands were coming up to cling to the back of his shirt. “Breathe” he said softly, rubbing her back. 

“Roose” she said softly, pulling back to look at him. 

“Hmm?” he raised a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb running over the trail of freckles along her porcelain skin. 

But she didn’t reply, instead she used her grip on the back of his shirt to pull him closer and her lips met his in a tentative, unsure kiss. 

This was stupid. Reckless. Idiotic and Gods he wanted her. He gave into sensation and pulled her closer, parting her lips with his tongue and delving into her mouth. She mewled softly, her hands sliding up his back to his shoulders and she clung to him. His hands slid into her hair as they began to move towards the bed. 

When her legs hit the mattress he easily lifted her and laid her atop the garish floral coverlet, moving over her as her hands went to the hem of his shirt. It was easily discarded, as was her own baggy nightshirt and then he could drink in the beauty that she was. All porcelain skin and light freckles, she was beautiful 

“Roose” she sighed as his hands moved over her body, memorizing every dip and curve. He leaned down to pull a jeweled nipple into his mouth, suckling it before moving to the other. She was whimpering, writhing under him when he finally released her, trailing kisses to her sternum and then stomach. When he reached the waistband of her panties her hand shot out to pause his hand.

“Sansa…” he frowned but her hand moved slowly away, releasing him and he pulled her panties away and tossed them aside. He paused when he saw her, the well-trimmed bright red hair at the apex of her thighs telling him her biggest secret. This woman, his partner, worked night and day to hide her beauty from the world, to hide her truth. He imagined what she would look like with a curtain of fiery red hair and he hated that she had to hide it from the world. Then he wondered _why_ she had to hide it from the world. 

He leaned forward, burying his face in her folds, savouring each whimper and cry as he devoured her. 

“Shit” she cried out, hands taking hold of his head as he ate her. “Roose” she gasped as his tongue circled her clit and she shook beneath him. It didn’t take long, as soon as his tongue delved into her opening she gasped then sobbed his name as she came, shaking around him. 

He crawled back up her body, kissing her porcelain flesh along the way. When he took her lips once more she could taste herself on his mouth and sighed softly. 

Sansa was lost to him, desperate to have him inside of her. Her hands moved to his belt, working the slacks and boxers free until she could push them away completely. She grabbed his cock, stroking the thick length of him with a firm hand. 

“Gods” he growled over her, kicking his clothes free. 

She felt wild, out of body and out of control as he thrust into her hand, all but begging for her touch. It was intoxicating to see a man as cold as Roose Bolton fall apart at her touch. To watch as his cold blue eyes melted into lust and desire, as he furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. 

The man’s mouth was made for more than just lecturing, he was damned good with that tongue of his. She stroked him a few more times before he pulled away, turning to his discarded pants and yanking his wallet free. He pulled a foil packet free and threw his wallet aside before tearing it open. 

She helped him to roll the condom over his length, then aligned him with her folds and then he was thrusting home, deep inside of her. 

“Fuck” she gasped, clinging to his back. He was thick, damned thick and she felt stretched at the intrusion of his body. 

“Beautiful” he kissed her softly, nuzzling her jaw before she turned his lips back to his. Their kisses were deep, filthy and untamed as he took a rough, deep rhythm that had his cock echoing in every inch of her body. Her nails dragged up the muscles of his back and with a quick movement he grabbed them, pinning them to the mattress over her head as her legs wound around him. 

His grunts and her cries filled the hotel room, both of them lost in the other, in the pleasure radiating through them. All of their arguments, all of their conversations and foreplay had led to this, to the stretch of her body around his as he took her. 

“Roose” she cried out, clutching his hands as he adjusted his knees and fucked her impossibly hard, shaking the bed with each movement. He did not relent, his possession was thorough as he gave no quarter. 

“You feel it, you feel me inside of you” he whispered, leaning down to trail his lips across her jaw. “Let it take you, come for me, Sansa, show me who you belong to” he instructed and her body rose up to meet his encouragement, the deep timbre of his pleas coursing through her. She could hardly catch her breath and then she screamed out his name as her body clenched around his, bucking violently beneath him as she came. 

He swore darkly, hips stuttering and then he was deep, pulsing into the latex barrier as he collapsed atop her. His hands squeezed hers in reassurance as they panted for air, his lips gently meeting hers in a soft, lovers kiss.

Sansa whimpered as he rolled away, slipping from her body and leaving her feeling empty. He slid away to dispose of the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the garbage before he climbed back into bed beside her. 

She moved to his side, allowing her body to soak in the warmth of his. Several minutes passed before either of them spoke, and she decided she would break the silence on her own behalf. 

“Now you know” she said quietly, knowing that he had come, quite literally, face to face with her secret. 

“Tell me” Roose said into the darkness of the room. They lay entwined in bed, their hands raised and absently stroking each others’ flesh. 

“I was 4 when I was adopted” she began again, her voice soft. “Outwardly the Stones were the perfect family. Kind, charitable and religious. There was no hesitation from the state to let them adopt me. I was so excited” she laughed cruelly. “I was so fucking excited to have a _family_.”

“Any child would be” he commented.

“Some religious sects frown on redheads,” she whispered. “Even in today’s world of suicide bombings and social class warfare, red hair is considered a deadly sin” leaned her head against his chest as her fingers entwined with his. “Unfortunately it isn’t something that can be cured through beatings and prayer.”

“Sansa” he frowned, turning to kiss her temple. 

“It’s not Sansa” she choked on a sob. “It’s Alayne. Alayne Stone” she whispered and she felt his body go shock-still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *throws canon out the window and wipes hands on jeans* OK, let's go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

_ “Did you pray?” the voice asked her. “Did you pray for forgiveness?” _

_ “I did, please, I am so hungry---” _

_ “Hunger is a form of penance child” they replied. _

_ “But I prayed! You promised if I prayed that I could eat” she cried into the darkness, sinking to her knees. “You promised.”_

Roose held her against his chest as the words hung in the air. Alayne Stone. _Alayne_. The woman in his arms suddenly had a visible target on her back and it made his gut clench. 

“Sansa Stark doesn’t exist,” she said softly. “I mean, she did. She was a Queen during the Great War, I used to read about her in heroic tales when I was very young.”

“You wanted to be a princess, but became a Queen instead” he noted, idly smoothing his hand over her back. 

“Princesses wait to be saved, Queens save themselves” she whispered. “And that’s what I did.”

He felt the hot sting of her silent tears as they hit the bare skin of his chest and he held her tighter, “Who is Alayne Stone?”

“I am,” she said. “I was. My name was always Alayne, but I don’t remember my birth parents. I remember the group home and then the Stones.”

“They were religious” he stated more than asked. 

“Beyond fundamentalist. They saw my hair as a beacon, a great mass of fire-colored ringlets that told them I needed to be saved before I grew into a sinful woman” she laughed, though the sound held no mirth. “They’d shave my head, hit me, force me to pray, starve me, keep me locked in darkness for weeks at a time. I didn’t even know how old I was when I finally ran away. Not until I googled myself. I was nineteen. They had arranged my marriage and I just----I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Fifteen years, gods” he said softly. He could not imagine enduring fifteen years of torture, of (for lack of a better word) hell. No wonder she kept everything so hidden. 

“I changed my name, I picked a woman who was strong and fierce, a woman with red hair who saved her realm. I bleached my hair and had it chemically straightened, by then they had let it grow out to my shoulders” Sansa said, looking up at him. “And I ran.”

“The world is never large enough for us to run from our problems forever” he assured her and she gave a sad smile. He leaned down to kiss her softly, her lips just dancing across his own. 

“I had hoped the women--”

“Women?” he frowned. 

“The sisters who adopted me, Catelyn and Lysa Stone, the ‘Lord’s Ladies Stoneheart’ as the men, their henchmen, called them. They ran what they called a ‘Conversion Convent’,” she explained. “I had hoped they’d died by now.”

“We can find out” he replied thoughtfully. “How long have you known the murders are symbolic of you?”

“Not until the note” she moved closer to him. “Not many people know my real name.”

“Who does?”

“The sisters, Tywin and you” she answered. 

“And Baelish” he added. “If he had your file to pleasure himself there’s a chance he saw something he shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t think of that” she frowned. “Could he have….you don’t think he would have contacted them, would he?”

“It is possible. He’s always been a devious little shit. Technically speaking you should remove yourself from this case. I should be sending you far away, keeping you safe,” he said, continuing before she could argue. “But you know damn good and well I won’t do that.”

“I need to do this,” she argued. 

“I know” he kissed her softly once more. “I know, and I will do all I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Roose” she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him and he loved the delicious feel of her nude form melded against his own. Carefully he rolled her beneath him and she let out a little whimper of surprise. 

“I’ll get more condoms tomorrow so that I may take you at my leisure,” he said with a hint of a grin. “Until then…” his words trailed softly as he kissed her lips, running his tongue along her bottom lip before working his way down her body. 

“Sansa” Roose’s voice broke into her mind. She had her eyes closed, fingers rubbing her temples as they tried to wrap up their last day at the local department. Opening her eyes and looking to him she saw the look of concern on his face. 

“What’s wrong?”

“The sisters are alive, or at the very least, their deaths aren’t on record” he turned his laptop to face her, showing her the report that had finally arrived from records. They’d been waiting a sennight on confirmation, either way, now she had it. She flinched at the sight of the women who had once held her captive, turning away. 

“There is no justice in the world” she said quietly. 

“Lysa is 5’6”, Catelyn 5’7”,” Roose noted plainly and it took a second before her brain kicked into gear. 

“You think…” she asked and he nodded. “But the rape…” 

“Post-mortem” he noted. “A large cock that does considerable damage, no sperm.”

“A dildo,” she reasoned. “That is why they left the virgin untouched then?” 

“She was a pure sacrifice” Roose replied and she felt her stomach turn. 

“This is beyond disgusting” Sansa shook her head. 

“Could they have seen you, in a photograph or on a news channel, during the Reyne case?” Bolton asked. “The murders, they started up shortly after that case closed, after you put yourself in the middle of the undercover investigation.” 

“I did my best to avoid it, but I suppose it is possible. I was so careful” she felt caged, panicked. Abruptly she pushed herself to a standing position and wobbled on her feet. She felt Roose move beside her before he took her elbow to steady her. “These women are dead because of me, aren’t they…” she whispered. 

“You cannot think like that,” he told her, his voice firm and confident. “The sisters, they’re responsible for their own choices, for their actions.”

She looked up to the eyes of her lover, the blue so impossibly deep and now, to her, easy to read. Behind the black framed glasses there was affection there, worry and anger too, but not at her. She’d spent a week learning every inch of this man, spent a week of pleasurable nights with him inside of her, of laying beside him as they talked. They shared the horrors of their childhoods, laid them bare before the other, exposing the wounds and scars that would never heal. 

He spoke about how he imagined killing his father, how he would have done it and how he would have gotten rid of the body. But he never did it, he wasn’t a murderer and he didn’t want to be taken from the mother who needed him. So instead, when he was big enough to defend her, he did. Stepping in to take the blows meant for his mother, even if it meant broken bones. She understood now why he was cold, aloof and anti-social. 

And in turn he understood why she hid herself from the world. Why she kept her emotions closed off and close to her chest. Why the horror and gore around them didn’t affect her. She had seen the cruel faces of the world, she had lived at their whim and she had managed to survive. They had both survived. She had told him more than she had told anyone before, she let him see the pain she couldn’t escape.

“We’re done here” he glanced to the papers on the table. “We’ll pack up, grab something to eat and then we can focus on more pleasurable activities.” 

“Gregor Clegane” she spoke softly, uttering the name for the first time in a decade. “He’d be helping them...he’s always helping them.”

“Who is he?” Roose asked. 

“Their lead henchman and errand boy” she looked away from Rooses’ eyes. “If they wanted me hit, he’d hit me…” she cleared her throat, pushing away the emotion. “He’d fit the bill for this, the brutality, the rape, but he’s too tall, far too tall.”

“How tall?”

“Seven feet, or right abouts” she replied. “He’d be angry too…”

“Why?” Roose went still. 

“I was supposed to be his wife” she looked back to her partner, her lover and saw the cold fury in his eyes. 

“Well that’s not happening” he assured her, his voice barely audible. “That is absolutely not happening.”

Roose woke to the tickle of blonde hair across his chest. With a small smile he turned to see that Sansa had once again wrapped herself around him in the night, arms and legs clinging to him. 

In a few hours they would be heading back to the city and their offices, facing the world at large for the first time since their partnership had become far more than that. He was not a romantic man by any means, but he fully intended to keep Sansa as his own. 

And not just because of the sex, though that was bloody fantastic, but because with her he didn’t feel out of place. He didn’t feel weird, he felt as if she understood him. His half-formed thoughts and theories made sense to her and she was able to translate them and elaborate, adding half-formed thoughts of her own. They fit together, in the true spirit of the puzzle pieces he was always trying to figure out, theirs fit. 

She mumbled something and then jolted awake, looking up to see him watching her. She gave a sleepy smile and covered her face with a hand, “Stop watching me, weirdo” she laughed. 

“Absolutely not” he grabbed her hips and pulled her across his lap. She laughed, her hands moving over his chest as she settled her core over him. 

“Dr. Roose Bolton” she smiled as she explored the planes of his body. “Special Agent. Genius. Madman and Sex Fiend.” 

“Only with you” he promised. 

“Smooth, Doc” she leaned down to kiss him, his hands sliding up her back to tunnel into her hair. Perhaps one day, when this was over, he could persuade her to give up the bleach, he found he ached to see her in her true glory. 

While her mouth teased and devoured him her rocked her hips over his rapidly-hardening cock, the slide of her folds along his shaft making him groan in pleasure. 

“Ooh, someone’s nice and hard for me,” she teased, pulling back from their kiss, taking his lower lip gently in her teeth, releasing it with a sigh.

“Don’t tease me, you vixen” he grabbed her ass with both hands and ground her against him. Her gasp and then whimper was one of the most arousing sounds he had ever heard. 

“Oh baby” she sighed, smirking against his mouth. “It’s not teasing if I mean to make good on it,” she furthered her point by grinding her hips once more, his hands flexing into the flesh of her ass. She reached between them, stroking him in long, firm movements, her thumb dragging over the tip. He hissed as she teased him, her devious smile nearly undoing him. 

“Sansa” he growled and she laughed, releasing him long enough to grab a condom from the pile, tearing it open and rolling it over him. 

“I suppose I’ve teased you enough, hmm?” she rose over him and sank back onto him with a groan. 

“I thought you said it wasn’t teasing” he swallowed his own groan as her body surrounded his. 

“Does this feel like teasing, Doc?” she rotated her hips, holding him deep within her. His hands moved to her hips, thumbs stroking her skin as she moved. Watching her ride him, taking her pleasure, is a sight that would never grow old. 

He wasn’t certain what he had done to deserve these moments with her, as he hadn't done anything heroic or glamorous to warrant it, but he hoped he would never have to give them up.

Her devious smirk melted into sighs of pleasure as her eyes fluttered closed and her head lolled back. He cupped a porcelain breast, strumming the nipple until it was begging for more. She rode him in a slow, deep pace, her movements unhurried. 

“Beautiful” he marvelled at her as her moans became cries, body moving instinctually faster. “Come for me, Sansa” he urged her. “Come apart for me…” he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and she was panting his name until he felt her pause then flutter around his cock. Deep, pulsing spasms milked him and he growled his pleasure as he filled the condom, wishing he was coating her walls instead. 

She collapsed across his chest, breathing heavily until he slipped from her body. He moved away, tossing the condom into the trash with the others before he climbed back into bed and pulled her close. 

“Sleep a bit, we don’t have to leave for a few hours,” he assured her. 

“Ok” she sighed and lay her head on his shoulder. 

He listened as her breathing evened out, her hand relaxing over his heart before he slept into slumber himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - GRAPHIC VIOLENCE (seriously, you guys)
> 
> You've been so loving, here, take more of these...
> 
> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

“We’ve got an address on the sisters” Roose said as he entered their office, his pace hurried. 

“How far?”

“Forty five minutes” he told her and Sansa felt her stomach sink. “Judge is working on a warrant, we should have it by the time we get there.”

“We? You want me there?” she asked. 

“You’re my partner, Sansa” he assured her. They had been back in the city for nearly a week, tracking through alias’ and unlisted residences to find the sisters and Gregor Clegane. Gregor was proving much harder to track down, but for now they had to chase any lead they could. 

Their partnership, at least in the office, hadn’t changed, though more often than not he was going home with her or vice versa. It had been awkward, as she expected, when Tywin realized their had been a shift in her relationship with Roose. She never wanted to hurt Tywin, and she cared for him deeply but their lives weren’t on the same paths. 

_ “Are you happy?” Tywin asked, his voice barely audible in the office._

_ “I am” she nodded. “And I will be even more so when this is over.”_

_ “He hurts you and I will ruin him” Tywin promised. “You know that, right?”_

_ “I know, Ty” she smiled. _

She stood as Roose tossed her her bulletproof vest, the bright yellow FBI patch gleaming across the chest and back. She swallowed, staring at the vest for a moment before she look to him, finding him watching her with an odd expression. 

“You’ll be alright” he assured her, moving closer but not close enough to break office propriety. 

“I know, I just…” she shook her head. 

“You never wanted this day to come” he read her mind and she smiled. “I know” he placed a black balaclava in her hand, one that would hide her face upon making entry. She couldn’t help but laugh as she thanked him. Other men would have tried to leave her behind, but not her Roose. Instead, he handed her a way to stay safe, even as she moved in with him. 

“I’m ready” she nodded as she shucked her suit jacket and pulled on her vest, tucking the mask into her pocket. 

As they headed out she turned to smile at Tywin who was watching them from his office. He gave a small nod, his face impassive and she continued on, preparing to face her ghosts. 

“Search warrant confirmed” one of the agents in the back told Roose as he drove the SUV down the frontage roads. 

“Perfect” Roose nodded. “We’re about five out” he glanced to Sansa, seeing her take a deep breath before pulling the black balaclava over her head, tucking away her hair and adjusting the eyes. 

She looked a little pale as they’d left the office but she had seemed to settle and center herself. He was proud of her for facing her past head on, especially considering the abuse she had survived. She had told him everything, or at least he assumed it was everything, and he would stay at her side to defend her, support her while she defended herself. 

_ “It’s still your ass if she’s hurt” Tywin warned him, the Great Lion’s eyes shockingly cold._

_ “And I assume that includes if I am the one hurting her?”_

_ “You’ll be working in a used bookshop in flea bottom, with a considerable limp, if you hurt her” Tywin promised. _

_ “I don’t have to worry about that, it won’t happen” Roose promised the commander._

_ “It better not.”_

_ “Do me a favor though, Commander” Roose asked. “Look into Baelish. He’s seen her file, and aside from you and I, he’s the only one who knows, or could know, her name.”_

_ Tywin paused, his eyes narrowing, “Consider it done.”_

Roose turned down the drive to the secluded farm house and crested the hill, he heard Sansa choke on her fear beside him. It was on fire---or it had been moments ago, the house smoldering and smoke billowing in the breeze. The fields around it were empty and untouched, but the house was gone and in what had been the front yard was another body. 

He cursed softly, parking the car and instructing the team to move as planned, search for hostiles. 

Sansa moved as if she were in a fog, exiting the car and walking to where the girl lay. She was naked and utterly destroyed, nearly every inch of her covered in blood. Even her hair, a sickly bleach blonde was splattered with blood as it surrounded her head in a halo. 

But her stomach, he felt sick at the sight, the girl’s stomach had been cleaned and across it they had written ‘SIN’ in what looked like semen, the pearly fluid glittering the in the light.

“Fucking shit” Sansa pulled the balaclava from her face and pulled her phone from her pocket, dialing quickly. “Get me crime scene, STAT” she spoke quickly and hung up, looking to him. “Is that semen?”

“I believe so” he ground his teeth at the girls horrible bleached hair. “We will get the DNA and find out---”

“Gregor probably…” Sansa crouched, looking to the girls hair. 

“Sansa” he said quietly as the agents cleared the smoldering wreckage of the house. 

“I want them dead,” she whispered. “All of them...they’re monsters.”

“We will find them” he promised her. 

“Finding them isn’t good enough” she turned away from the body and stood. “Letting them live isn’t good enough.”

He caught her arm as she moved away, “You kill them in cold blood then it's _you_ in jail and I don’t find that course of action acceptable.”

“They don’t deserve to live” she met his eyes and he pain and sadness in their depths. 

“No, they don’t” he agreed. “But I don’t deserve to lose out on a future with you if you go vigilante on me.”

“Is that what you want, Doc?” she asked. “A future with me?”

“I would have thought that was implied” he replied, glancing back at the body. “This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation, but please Sansa, please trust that we will handle this, legally. Trust me.”

“I do--I will” she gave a small nod and he relaxed, if slightly. 

Crime scene arrived an hour later and they walked the scene, processing every bit of information they could. Sansa watched as they took a dozen samples of the ‘liquid’ on the girl’s stomach, her stomach turning in disgust. 

While they were working Tywin called, letting her know that a girl had been reported missing that morning and he was going to send her a photo for comparison. When the image arrived she held her phone next to the girl’s face. 

“That’s her” Roose nodded, motioning to the birthmark above her lip. 

“She’s eighteen” Sansa shook her head. “She didn’t even get a chance to live.”

Roose didn’t reply, he likely didn’t have the words to make this better, to make it easier. So he remained quiet, a strong anchor for Sansa’s chaotic thoughts and she appreciated that more than any hollow platitudes. 

Soon the arson investigator arrived and began their work on the house, trying to determine the cause of the fire. 

They were there for hours, working well into the night under the bright beams of floodlights, making sure that everything was diligently logged and collected. When the first van of evidence was packed up, just after sunrise, Roose instructed them to rush the fluid samples from the girl’s stomach, to confirm if it was semen and then run the DNA profiles ASAP. 

The sisters had known they were coming, and now they had to think fast and move even faster. 

Sansa paused at the thought, setting her coffee cup on the hood of the SUV, “Roose.”

“Hmm?” he turned from his files to look at her. 

“They knew we were coming,” she said softly. 

“Yes, it would seem so---”

“No” she took a shaky breath. “They _knew_.”

He paused then, his eyes narrowing as his brain worked through the implication, “Baelish” he whispered the name and she nodded. 

“I highly doubt it is Tywin” she replied, laughter bubbling in her throat.

“I asked Lannister to look into Baelish” he admitted. 

“When?”

“A week ago Monday” he said. 

“Being protective?” she smirked. 

“Covering my bases,” he replied, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

She laughed to herself as Roose dialed and paced away. She wondered how the conversation had gone between Roose and Tywin, two incredibly masculine men both trying to protect the same woman. What a dick measuring contest, she scoffed. There was no contest there, but still. 

Roose returned a few moments later, a frown on his face, “He didn’t answer.”

Sansa frowned, grabbing her phone and dialing, only to meet with the same result, “Shit. Something is wrong. Very wrong. Roose---”

“I know” he was already moving.

Tywin strode down the hallway, Special Agent Addam Marbrand behind him as they made their way to Baelish’s office. The report had been on his desk when he came in, having been cultivated by Marbrand himself, the man he trusted most after Sansa. 

The information he had gathered had been sickening, more so than catching Baelish masturbating to Sansa’s file and photograph several months ago. A photograph he now knew had further reaching consequences. 

Not bothering to knock Tywin shoved open the door, a rather shocked Baelish looked up at him from his computer. 

“Commander Lannister, to what do I owe the pleasure” he glanced to Addam but didn’t flinch. 

“I wanted to talk with you for a moment” Tywin glared, tossing the printout onto Baelish’s desk. “And wish you felicitations on the event of your marriage to Lysa Stone.”

“I...thank you, sir---”

“I’ve actually heard of your wife before” Tywin stated. “Though I am sure you already knew that.”

“Commander” Baelish turned to face him. “I do not know what you mean.”

“How many copies of Sansa’s file did you make?” Tywin asked, moving further into the office so Addam could guard the door. “Enough to give your wife and her sister, I assume.”

“Sansa has so many secrets” Baelish smiled. “Though I am sure you know all about that one, Commander. Tell me, is she good in bed?”

“As much as I know how desperately you want that information, you’re not going to get a damned thing from me” Tywin glared at the smaller man. “I can’t decide if you jerked off to the file first, or took a picture home to that _lovely_ wife of yours.”

“The world is such a small place, when it comes down to it” Baelish replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. The move purposefully exposed the gun at Petyr’s waist and Tywin frowned. Stupid little shit. 

“So which came first, the chicken or the egg?” 

“I have had Sansa--or should I saw sweet Alayne’s file for quite some time, Commander” Baelish explained. “Long enough to track down those who would seek her most.”

“Were you going to sell her to them?”

“Sell is such a filthy word” Baelish countered. “She is engaged, you see, to a man who very much wishes to claim her. I merely sought to return her.”

“Gregor Clegane” Tywin frowned. 

“Indeed” Baelish nodded. “So if you could excuse me Commander” Baelish stood and pulled on his jacket.

Tywin moved to block him, only to feel the cold steel of a gun barrel press to the back of his head. 

“Sorry, Commander” Addam spoke softly, his voice sad, broken.

The sound of the gunshot echoed in the offices.


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRAPHIC VIOLENCE - BRIEF MENTION OF RAPE (PAST) 
> 
> OK, so I know some of y'all are mad at me....just breathe, don't panic!
> 
> Remember, I love you.

Sansa didn’t react in time, but Roose did, drawing his weapon as they came around the corner and taking out the man who held a gun to Tywin’s head. She watched as the form of Addam Marbrand, one of Tywin’s most trusted agents hit the ground, holding the wound in his shoulder. 

“You bastard!” Sansa swore, moving to disarm Addam while Roose faced off with Baelish who now had his hands up, shock on his features. 

They had driven like hell, making the 45 minute drive in less than thirty, both of them knowing that something was very wrong. Once Addam was handcuffed, complaining about his shoulder, Sansa moved to Roose’s side, drawing her weapon before she moved in front of Tywin. 

When she was ready, Roose moved to take Baelish’s service weapon, handing it to Tywin before he handcuffed Baelish. 

“Ty” Addam whimpered. “I’m sorry, he threatened Lorna, I didn’t have a choice.”

Sansa saw the cold glare that Tywin fixed on the agent, “I never thought you would have betrayed me, Addam” Tywin said coolly. “You could have come to me.”

“I didn’t have a choice” Addam repeated. 

“Hello Alayne” Petyr chose then to address her and she turned back to glare at him. 

“Don’t call me that” she warned. 

“Whyever not? It is your name after all” he gave a small smile. “Or perhaps you would prefer Sweeting?”

“You son of a bitch” she launched herself at him but Tywin’s strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her back. 

“Commander” Roose said something to Tywin she couldn’t hear over her struggle and then Tywin was pulling her from the office, stepping over Addam’s bleeding body. 

“Let me go!” she demanded, but Tywin didn’t budge, carrying her to the office across the hall and sitting her down. 

“Sit” he ordered and she sobered, looking up at him. 

She glared for several minutes before she asked, “How bad is it?”

“He married Lysa Stone, I believe he was going to deliver you to Gregor” Tywin explained. 

“I am going to fucking kill him---”

“You will do no such thing” Tywin interrupted her rage. “You’re going to sit there until you’re in control of yourself and then were are going to continue the investigation.”

She grimaced and frowned, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry about Addam.”

“As am I” he replied with a frown of his own. “It must have been dire indeed for him to hold a gun to my head.”

“Good help is hard to find these days” she chuckled and she saw his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“How bad was the scene?” he asked. 

“Bad” she replied. “She had bleached hair now, and she was covered in semen.”

His brows raised, “We’ll have DNA then?”

“That is the hope” she said as Roose lead Baelish out of the room and into the hall. Sansa fixed him with a glare but he only gave his mysterious smile as he was lead down the hall. Roose gave her a questioning glance, silently asking her if she was okay and she gave a nod, settling his concerns. 

Hours later, when they determined that he wasn’t going to be talking, Roose and Sansa left Baelish to rot in a holding cell, under guard of course, while they returned to her apartment, thoroughly exhausted. 

Sansa discarded her jacket and tossed it across the couch, uncaring where it landed. Roose followed, locking the door firmly before he shrugged out of his own suit jacket. 

“Shower?” Sansa asked him and he nodded. 

“Absolutely” he moved into the master bedroom with her, enjoying the show as she stripped down to her black panties before turning on the shower.

They had been up for over 24 hours now, between the crime scene and Baelish’s bullshit stunt, Roose was ready to sleep, eat and fuck her senseless, and not necessarily in that order. He discarded his own clothing and glasses before he moved into the bathroom where she was brushing out her hair. 

“I’ll have to dye it again soon,” she frowned, looking at the roots. 

“You don’t have to, Sansa” he told her. “There is no reason to hide anymore.”

She shook her head, setting the brush aside, “What happens if I go back to red and I am that scared little girl again…” she asked quietly. “If I am trapped as Alayne forever.”

“You won’t,” he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back against his strength, holding his gaze in the mirror. “You’re far too strong to ever be that little girl again. You said it before, Alayne is dead, you watched her die. Right now you’re hiding, hiding yourself, and that is fear.”

“Gregor, he used to call me ‘sweeting’,” she closed her eyes and turned her face to nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, he’d guess as a comfort. “He’d come to my room, or my cell, he’d hold me on his lap and…” she took a deep breath. “He was so big, everything about him...I was so afraid. All the time, I was so afraid.”

“Sansa” he held her tight, resting his head against hers as the steam from the shower filled the bathroom.

“Not everyone’s first time is sunshine and rainbows,” she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the water falling behind them. “Sometimes you pray for death, rather than forgiveness.” 

“Gods Sansa” he raised a hand to cup her face, kissing her forehead gently. “I will never let anyone hurt you again, never.”

“Promises like that are hard to keep” she replied with a soft smile. “But I like the idea of you being around to try.”

“I am not going anywhere” he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Except maybe that shower.”

“Sounds reasonable” she agreed and he pushed her panties to her ankles before guiding her back and into the shower, letting the hot spray cover them both. She sighed as the water washed over her and he watched her tilt her head back, the droplets running over her porcelain skin. 

“Beautiful” he trailed a finger up her sternum between her breasts. 

She turned to face him and smiled, “You gonna stand there and ogle or are we going to help each other get clean?”

“Clean is the last thing I want to make you” he pulled her into his arms, running his hands over her body. 

“But baby” she sighed, reaching over his shoulder to grab the body wash. “I can’t wait to clean you up.”

He watched as she poured some of the rather girly body wash into her hand before they began to wander his body, lathering his chest and arms before she reached between them to stroke his cock. 

“Sansa” he pulled her closer, her hand between them, and kissed her deeply. She moaned against his mouth and he turned, backing her against the shower wall. Water poured over both of them, but they didn’t pay it any mind. Their world consisted of each other, beyond that, they didn’t care. 

Eventually they did get clean, but they took the winding road filled with deep, sensual kisses and heavy petting, Roose eventually caving and shutting off the water. 

“Roose” she laughed as he dried her quickly and then threw her over his shoulder and carried her to bed. He had a condom over himself in record time and then he was thrusting home, her gasp of pleasure urging him on. “Shit” she moaned as he hooked one of her legs over his elbow, plunging deep. 

They were both keyed up from their languid shower and soon he was chasing his release and Sansa was clawing at the sheets beneath him as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Sansa” his voice was a growled warning as his fingers stroked across her clit and she broke, coming around him with a gasp and silent scream. Watching her in her rapture was all it took for him to follow her, holding himself deep within her as he came.

Reluctantly he pulled away, dealing with the condom before he slid into bed beside her. He smiled as she turned and wrapped herself around him, snuggling close. 

“Hey” she whispered and when he looked at her she kissed him softly before laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey yourself” he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He had never been one for shows of physical affection, having always been rather cold, but with Sansa it came as second nature. There was no fear of rejection, there was no feeling of guilt for his dedication to his job, there was just acceptance and….love.

“My office, now” Tywin was waiting for them when the elevator reached the floor where their offices were. The commander looked pissed, his eyes cold as he turned and strode away, leaving them to fall in behind him.

“Alright” Sansa looked to Roose in confusion but when he looked equally perturbed, her frown deepened. 

“Shut the door” Tywin barked and Roose closed the office door before they faced their angry boss. “You want the bad news or the worse news?”

“Does it matter?” Roose asked. 

“No” Tywin grimaced. “Baelish was found beaten to death in his cell last night.”

“Fuck” Sansa cursed and paced to the window. 

“Baelish’s key card was used to gain access to the building. The guard is in critical condition in ICU and Baelish….well, he’s hamburger," Tywin explained.

“Gregor?” Roose asked. 

“Yes” Tywin replied quickly. “And now the worse news.”

“Gregor wasn’t the worst news?” Sansa asked. 

“No” Tywin picked up a folder from his desk. “DNA came back on victim 7. It is sperm, you were both right in that assumption. It’s yours, Bolton” Tywin tossed the folder into Roose’s hands. 

“What” Sansa felt sick, her stomach rolling and rebelling against the small breakfast they’d had that morning. 

Roose opened the file and glanced through, reading the report quickly, “Gods…”

“I had them test the second DNA profile, assuming it would be the victim” Tywin frowned deeply. “And it came back to Sansa. Fortunate for us we have your DNA on file to compare.”

Sansa covered her mouth as nausea nearly consumed her, “Oh my god….”

“Traces of spermicidal lubricant” Roose read aloud. “No motility and decay was present in the sperm--”

“The condoms” Sansa leaned against the filing cabinet. “In the hotel room….”

“Likely the case considering I am sure Roose has a solid alibi” Tywin looked quite upset and Sansa felt a twinge in her chest but the sickness in her stomach weighed out. 

“I am going to be sick” she choked out, running from the room and to the bathroom down the hall where she lost everything she had eaten that morning. 

“They’ve taken their personal vendetta to the next level” Roose said to Tywin as Sansa ran from the office. 

“I would say that using your discarded sperm to defile a dead body is personal, yes” Tywin replied dryly, sinking to his office chair. “What an absolute mess. Baelish, Marbrand, Clegane. Madness and stupidity.”

“So they rifle through the garbage to implicate me” Roose said. 

“Or to show you that you can’t keep her safe” Tywin replied, his voice only a little accusatory. “That we may be FBI but they’ve been playing us for a while.”

“They pull a condom trick, then they use a keycard to get into the building and---” Roose frowned. “When did Gregor key out?” 

Tywin leaned forward to check the papers, “There was no key out” Tywin noted. “Though you don’t need one to get out of most doors.”

“No, but you do if you want to wait for someone” Roose dropped the file and ran from the office, following Sansa’s path to the bathroom. His steps slowed when he reached the short hall and saw the blood on the floor. 

“Lock the building down! NOW!” Tywin ordered somewhere behind him and the level erupted into chaos. 

Roose swallowed as he moved to the women’s bathroom and slowly opened the door. Inside was chaos, broken stalls and a running faucet, blood streaked across the broken mirrors and no sign of Sansa. Only her gun was left on the linoleum. 

Removing his glasses he staggered back, pinching his nose. He had promised her that she would be safe, and he had let her down. 

“Bolton!” Tywin yelled and Roose could only shake his head. “Is she….?”

“She’s not here” Roose whispered. “Gregor has her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRAPHIC VIOLENCE
> 
> The moment you've been waiting for. Sansa finally gives zero fucks.

Sansa came awake slowly to the feeling of pain rippling through her entire body. She groaned and tried to move but then realized she couldn’t. Her eyes shot open to see she was handcuffed to a chair, clad only in her plain bra and panties. 

“Fuck” she muttered and glanced around the generic looking bedroom, as memories of Gregor rushed back to her. 

_ When she had finally puked up everything she had to give, she shakily stood and flushed the toilet before moving to the sink. With a trembling hand she turned on the water and rinsed her mouth thoroughly before she splashed water on her face. As she leaned on the counter she looked to the mirror and saw the huge form of Gregor Clegane staring back at her from the handicap stall. _

_ “Of course” she met his eyes in the mirror. “You’re like a generic brand Michael Myers, you know that?”_

_ “I’ve missed you, sweeting” he raked his eyes over her. “With the Lord’s help, I can even forgive you for the whore you’ve become.” _

_ “Whore” she chuckled, glancing to the sink that was still running. She leaned down and rinsed her mouth once more and when he grabbed her elbow she turned and spit in his face._

_ He growled in fury and threw her against the closest stall door, sending her and the door to the floor. She reached for her gun but he stepped on her hand and she felt the protest of her bones as she screamed in pain._

_ He bent over then, throwing her towards the sink and mirror, shattering the glass and the blood on her hands staining the mirror. She swallowed a cry of pain as she turned and tried to fight but he was too big, too strong and she felt blackness closing in on her. _

“Awake, I see” Sansa felt her stomach drop at the familiar voice that reached her. She turned to see the petite figure of Lysa Stone in the doorway. Clad, as always, in a modest floral dress reminiscent of the 1950’s, Sansa could see the aging in the woman’s face, though her hair was still the same sickly brunette. 

“You’re like a bad penny” Sansa spit blood onto the hardwood. “I can’t seem to be rid of you.”

“While you seem to have found the manners of a trucker” Lysa scolded. 

A surge of defiance coursed through her, rage unlike she’d ever felt spurring her on, “You should see all the bad habits I have now, Lysa. Naughty words, eating real food and enjoying a regular deep dicking, you should try it sometime.”

“So vulgar” Lysa looked to the door and Gregor entered, a briefcase in hand.

“Great, right back to where we left off a decade ago, only your body count has grown substantially” Sansa glared as Gregor moved behind her where she could not see. “Why did those girls have to die!? WHY!?”

“I suppose we’ll have to begin your lessons all over again” Lysa sighed dramatically, pulling her rosary from her pocket. Holding the crucifix she began, “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, Our Lord, Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under---” 

Sansa froze at the sound of the clippers turning on behind her _No_, she thought as Gregor’s large hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back. Sansa only ground her teeth, holding back tears by a hair as he smiled and lowered the clippers to her hair. 

“--I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen” Lysa continued with her rosary prayers as Gregor roughly shaved away the bleached locks, tossing them to the floor around her where they fell without a sound. 

“You know the best part” Sansa glared once more at Lysa. “That precious husband of yours stroking his tiny dick to my photo in his office” she laughed as Lysa paled. “No wonder you’re so uptight, he probably couldn’t even pop your cherry with that baby dick of his.” 

She didn’t see the hit coming, just felt the impact of the fist in her stomach before the chair hit the floor and darkness grabbed her once more. 

“I don’t care what you have to do, break into the feed!” Tywin ordered Tarly, one of the IT experts and the man cowered in his chair as they all worked as quickly as they could to find Sansa. 

Roose was waiting for Tarly to crack the traffic cameras, to see if there was anyway to track the getaway vehicle or to see if Sansa was even alive when she left. At the current moment, their entire team was scared shitless of both men who had done nothing but glower and bark orders since the building went on lockdown. The only thing more terrifying than these two men in this moment, was natural disasters.

Rumors had begun to spread of course, speaking of an affair between Sansa and Tywin where Roose stole her away. It was all becoming quite the soap opera that was giving Roose a migraine.

They needed to work faster, be better and figure out where the hell those fucks had taken Sansa.

Roose threw a stack of files on to his desk as he stormed into his office. He turned to the board and looked over every detail and every piece of evidence that they had, waiting for something to spark a memory, an idea, anything. 

He felt someone move in behind him a second before Tywin appeared at his side, looking equally at a loss.

“We’ve checked every address. Every property. Every lead about where the sisters have been” Tywin said quietly. “All of them abandoned, empty or destroyed in fires.”

“They did themselves a nice favor in silencing Baelish” Roose grimaced. 

“Getting him to talk would have been difficult” Tywin reasoned. “What would he have known beyond--”

“Wait,” Roose moved to the box on the desk, grabbing the report that Marbrand had made on Baelish. 

“I doubt that will be helpful, Addam proved to be quite treacherous” Tywin stated. 

“Not treacherours enough to not give you the report in the first place” Roose glanced to his boss. “He gave you the papers, even knowing that he would have to betray you at some point, he _gave_ them to you.”

“You think...” Tywin paused as Roose rifled through the papers.

Roose paused when he reached a copy of a deed, a new proof of purchase of a house on the edge of the woods about an hour away. Lifting it he looked to Tywin, “Baelish bought a farmhouse eight months ago.”

“Just after the second body was found” Tywin glared. 

Roose grabbed his vest, pulling it on, “We can be there in less than an hour.”

“I’m going with you” Tywin stated and Roose didn’t argue, simply nodded and made the call for his team to be ready. 

Ten minutes later found them loading their team into several black federal SUV’s, all of them heavily armed and ready for bear. 

“You need to be prepared” Tywin told Roose quietly.

“There is no preparing” Roose said, his voice as hard as diamonds. “If she’s dead--”

“If she’s dead we have to arrest them” Tywin said. 

“Are you saying that as my boss or her ex-lover?”

“Your boss” Tywin countered. 

“And as her ex-lover?” 

“We’re not wearing body cameras” Tywin said cruelly. “And if this goes south, who’s to say they didn’t shoot first.” 

“I am glad we’re on the same page” Roose gave a nod and they moved to the front seats of the closest SUV, tearing out of the secure parking garage and into the afternoon. 

The next time Sansa came awake she blinked her eyes open to see Catelyn sitting in the chair opposite of the bed Sansa lay on. She grimaced at the idea of someone moving her from the chair after Gregor had knocked her out, but it was at least comfortable considering everything hurt, including breathing. 

“My child” Catelyn smiled. 

“Fuck you” Sansa rasped, one of her lungs might be punctured, no, just bleeding... 

“Lysa said you’ve gotten quite a dirty mouth” Catelyn clicked her teeth as she stood. Sansa tried to move but once again she was handcuffed, this time to the bed frame. Catelyn approached and stood over her. “You’re still beautiful, in spite of the filth you’ve lain with.”

“Filth” Sansa laughed, her body protesting at the motion. 

“A man old enough to be your father and a man already divorced” Catelyn sighed. “Dear Alayne.”

“Both of them are fantastic lays, I highly recommend older men” Sansa taunted, completely lost to her defiance. If she was going to die now, she was going to die on her own terms. “They can find the clit like that,” she snapped. 

“Such terrible sin these pleasures of the flesh. What has gotten into you, Alayne” Catelyn leaned closer. 

“According to you, two filthy old cocks” Sansa spat in her face and watched as she recoiled.

“You will be punished for that” Catelyn wiped her face and leaned even closer. 

It was then, with an older, well-trained eye Sansa noticed it, “Jesus Fucking Christ” Sansa laughed, uncaring if her ribs were grinding against each other and her lungs. “What color is your hair, Catelyn?” 

“What?” the older woman paled. 

“Cause your bottle brunette was poorly fucking done, you stained your scalp” Sansa glared and Catelyn moved back, quickly, her hand shooting to her hair. “Is Lysa a fire-crotch too? Holy shit, what a revelation, you love those don’t you, Revelations?”

“Alayne--”

“But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death, Revelation chapter 21, verse 8” Sansa was laughing hysterically now. “Fire crotch headed to the fiery lake!” 

The door to the room opened and Gregor moved inside, his hulking form towering over Catelyn.

“Punish her” Catelyn ordered in a shaky voice. 

“Hey you big fucker,” Sansa looked to the giant man. “Did you know your Ladies Stoneheart are redheads?” she asked and the man paused, frowning briefly before he advanced once more. “Luke chapter 12, verse 2! Nothing is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known!”

At this, Catelyn hurried out of the room, the door slamming behind her. Sansa’s laugh filled the room, tears running down her cheeks. 

“It’s all a lie” she told Gregor as he bent over where she lay handcuffed to the bed. “It’s always been a lie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	10. Part 10

“Admiring your work?” Sansa choked on a wave of bile as Gregor’s hand trailed over the bare skin of her stomach, one she was sure was covered in bruises from his attacks.

“Admiring my wife” he replied and her stomach rolled. He pulled a large knife from his pocket and cut away her bra and panties, tossing the ruined fabric away before pocketing the knife once more.

“Over my dead body” she replied, glaring up at him. 

“You’ll give me children first, sweeting” he said darkly, reaching down to stroke her breasts.

Sansa forced herself to laugh through the pain, “What do you think I did out in the big world, you stupid fuck? Chemical sterilization is ridiculously affordable these days” she taunted. She had to buy time, and if that proved fruitless, she would force him to kill her. 

“The condoms---” 

“You ever had cum dripping down your leg all day?” she cut him off. “I thought not. Hard to investigate psychopaths when you have cum everywhere. Not to mention that’s how you avoid STDs, genius!”

His eyes went wide with anger and a large hand wrapped around her throat, “You’re lying” he squeezed and her airway began to close. She forced her lips to a smug smile, big and stupid, she marvelled. When he tightened his grip, her stomach rolled and then she choke-vomited blood and bile all over both of them. 

He released her, stumbling back in shock as she coughed. Glancing at herself, she realized that she needed medical attention, quickly, or she was going to speed that process of 'dying' up. Spitting her mouthful of blood onto the sheets she tried to catch her breath, but everything hurt. 

“You’ll be mine soon enough” Gregor’s deep voice warned. 

“I’ll die first” she said flatly. “And do yourself a favor, look at your Ladies’ cunts before you keep killing people for them. Twenty bucks they’re as red as mine---you remember mine, don’t you, you sick fuck?” she gasped for air and winced in pain. “Go fuck one of them bloody for a change. I’d go for the widow Baelish, she needs a bit of attention, eh?” 

“It’s there” Tywin pointed across the field as the old farmhouse came into view. They were in the first of three SUV’s filled with FBI agents, all ready to storm the house and take back one of their own. As they surrounded the front of the house the front door opened to show a woman with a shotgun. 

“Shit” Roose ducked as birdshot peppered the windshield. From there the world erupted into chaos, the agent’s exited the cars, the entry team storming the house, Tywin and Roose right behind them. 

The woman in the door was shot and killed, and as Tywin approached he realized that she was none other than Lysa Stone. Good, he kept himself from spitting on her corpse, just barely. 

Shouting came from upstairs and then more gunfire. So much gunfire….

“MEDIC” an entry team agent’s voice yelled and Tywin felt sick. Roose rushed ahead, running past everyone and into a bedroom. Men around them called for an ambulance as another man ran back to the SUVs for a medical kit. 

Tywin moved behind him, sailing through his wake. He saw the body of Catelyn Stone on the upstairs landing, a handgun being removed from her grip and the hulking form of Gregor slumped against the hallway wall beside a bedroom door. 

“Make sure he’s dead” Tywin told the team who handcuffed Gregor as a precaution. 

Moving into the bedroom, he drew up short at the sight of Sansa naked on the bed, head shaved and covered with blood. Roose was un-cuffing her, speaking softly as he worked. She had been beaten to within centimeters of her life, and he hoped that medics would arrive in time to combat any internal injuries. 

Sansa choked, blood spilling from her mouth but Roose said something and she smiled, a weak hand reaching out to touch the man’s chest, then neck, clinging to him. Roose cupped her cheek, his eyes full of affection, of connection, as he spoke to her. 

Tywin stood back, watching them with a heavy heart. It was clear that Roose cared deeply for her, fortunate, as he would be loathe to part with her for anything less than true love. Fanciful as that sounded. 

“We got a live one!” a voice called from downstairs and Tywin frowned, not realizing that another woman had been kidnapped. Perhaps, he frowned, they were too busy with Sansa to murder the new girl. 

“Tywin” he was surprised to hear Roose call him by his first name. He looked back to where Sansa had gone deathly still. “I need a helicopter, med-evac, now” Roose demanded. Tywin gave a nod, pulling his phone free to call in every favor he had. 

Roose sat in the waiting room of the hospital, still in his vest, holster and suit, waiting for any news on Sansa. Pushing his glasses atop his head he rubbed his eyes, exhaustion and terror fighting for dominance of his mind. 

Tywin had managed to get a helicopter in record time, Roose had climbed into the chopper with her, unwilling to be left behind. He hated to think of what favors and strings he had to pull to get med-evac there so fast. It was fortunate, Roose sighed to himself, that Tywin was so in love with her. 

_Yeah_ his mind countered. _But so are you, and she’s yours._

_For how long?_ he argued with himself. He felt sick as his mind raced through everything that they could have done to her in the twenty hours they had her. They had beaten her, obviously, and shaved her hair, but Gregor…

“Here” Tywin’s voice broke into his horrific thoughts as a coffee cup appeared in front of him. Roose looked up to see Tywin, suit jacket and vest gone, looking decidedly tired. “Any word?” he asked as he sat beside him. 

“No” Roose frowned, sipping the coffee Tywin had handed him. “She was completely unresponsive by the time we got here.” 

“They found another girl in the basement,” Tywin said. “She’s unharmed, just scared. Damien and Snow are taking her statement and handling the scene. The basement is nothing short of a medieval torture chamber.”

“I’m glad they’re dead, but I am sorry I couldn’t kill them myself” Roose admitted. 

“It’s cleaner this way. Entry team takes the hit and we get our justice. Sansa gets her justice” Tywin said, drinking his own coffee.

The two men sat in an oddly companionable silence while they waited, earning a few looks from nurses and visitors alike. Roose hadn’t realized he was covered in Sansa’s blood until the strange looks continued. 

“Dammit” he looked to his shirt and pants. 

“I’d tell you to go clean up, but we both know you’re not going anywhere” Tywin quipped. 

“I am not leaving her” Roose stated, leaving no room for argument. He wasn’t going to leave her, not again. He already let her down once. 

“It was my fault, you know?” Tywin said quietly. “I pushed her. I pushed her too hard and she left.” Roose didn’t speak, just looked to his boss with confusion. “She would wake up screaming, I felt so helpless. I would ask her to tell me, she’d refuse. We’d argue, terribly. We are both very stubborn, you know. She would just shut down, shut me out.”

“She does that” Roose agreed. 

“I went behind her back, I requested her sealed records” Tywin admitted. “I used my authority to ask for all of the reports, evidence, anything on Sansa Stark and then on Alayne Stone. I had to know, I wanted to help her, to fix her. I went behind her back, I betrayed her and then I lied. I broke her trust in me, and Sansa does not suffer liars.”

“No…”

“I learned who she was because I pulled the records” Tywin sighed. “But you learned because she chose to tell you and I….I hate you for that” he chuckled. “Just a little.” 

“I am not sorry” Roose said honestly. “I am sorry you’re hurt, but I am not sorry that she trusted me, that she chose me.”

“Understandable” Tywin nodded. “I can’t say I would feel any differently if the roles were reversed” he extended his hand and Roose shook it, sealing their uncommon understanding.

They lapsed into silence once more and then hours passed without a single word spoken between them. When a doctor emerged from the back, they both stood, greeting the older man with bated breath. 

“I will let you know up front that she is alive, somehow she is alive and fighting” the doctor admitted and both men exhaled in relief. “She is being moved from surgery to ICU where I suspect she will be for a while. Physical trauma was extensive but there was no sign of sexual trauma, which is very good. A crack in her mandible, shattered ribs and sternum, severe damage to her digestive system, whoever did this must be huge.”

“He was” Roose said flatly. “He’s dead now.”

The doctor gave a nod, “We have placed a chest tube in place to help with the fluid in her chest cavity and the collapsed lung. You’re lucky she got here when she did, any longer and we’d be looking at necrotic tissue or worse.” 

“Thank you doctor” Roose shook the man’s hand and then Tywin did the same. 

“Should be another half hour before you can see her, a nurse will come for you” the doctor gave a nod and made his way back to work. 

“There is one thing I don’t envy” Tywin smirked over at Roose. “You have to make sure her stubborn ass stays on bed rest” he laughed, breaking the tension that had filled the waiting room for hours. 

Roose joined him, laughing in relief and exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should fill in some gaps...
> 
> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

“Thank you for being here today, Special Agent Stark” Agent Snow said kindly as she sat across from him at the interview table. In front of her lay a bottle of water, microphone and a notepad with several black pens. 

“Did I have a choice?” she smirked. 

“No, unfortunately” he smiled, his blue eyes twinkled with amusement. He was charming, in a boyish sort of way. You would never guess by his appearance that this man was the FBI’s next leading expert in bladed crime, after Roose, of course. 

“Then you don’t have to thank me” she made herself comfortable in the metal chair as best she could. 

Three months had gone by since Roose and Tywin pulled her from the Baelish farmhouse. Three months of the ICU, hospital and physical therapy. It had been a very long and very painful road once she’d woken in that hospital bed, but she had Roose at her side the whole way. Even if he had been insufferably bossy and worrisome. 

He’d been in the ICU every day, often with Tywin at his side, both of them fussing over her. When the time came for her to go home, Roose had agreed that he would stay with her to help her. He officially moved in a month later, leaving his sparse bachelor pad behind. As she recovered, she saw a side of him she had never seen before, a warm, caring and hovering man who did everything he could for her. It made her love him all the more. 

Her hair had begun to grow back, currently in an awkward sort of pixie cut, the color back to its original bright fiery red. She had been self-conscious at first, but soon she grew used to it. No one stared, no one called her names, the world accepted her. Roose accepted her. In truth, he enjoyed running his hands through her hair as it grew, loved the rich color and the soft texture.

“Shall we start at the beginning then” Agent Snow asked. 

“What do you consider the beginning?” 

“Alayne Stone was adopted at age 4” he prompted. 

“I was 4 when I went to live with the Stones” she began. “On paper they were the perfect religious family. Two sisters, a ‘nephew’ and a nice home in the country. In reality, they were religious zealots intent on converting and saving me. Red hair is a sin to the most devout, and they were most devout. They would hit me, starve me, keep me locked in the dark and if I was really bad they would send Gregor Clegane to my room--or my cell, to molest me. This continued until I was maybe fourteen, perhaps fifteen, and then Gregor took to raping me. Punishment, you see, for my sins” she said as Snow frowned, glancing to his files. “From there things settled and when a few years later I saw my chance to run. So I took it. I changed my appearance, changed my name, the works. I took the GED test and passed, then sailed through college courses.”

“Forensic psychology” Snow noted. “An interesting choice for someone with your childhood.”

“Not really” she replied. “I wanted to know why. Why me? What made them like that? I never got my answers, but I did end up with a nice career.”

“What did you know about Lysa and Catelyn Stone?” he asked. 

“Not a lot. They were devoutly religious siblings” Sansa said. 

“They were twins, born into a very religious family, daughters of a preacher in the southern provinces,” he said. “Very fire and brimstone, Old Testament sort of things. According to record there was a long history of abuse in the home. Both of the spouse, their mother and the girls themselves. Their parents died under suspicious circumstances when they were just sixteen, from there they emancipated themselves.” 

“Murder twins, lovely” Sansa scoffed. 

“They have no formal education beyond the tenth grade but they were active in local church groups until they vanished at age 25,” he explained. “Shortly after they turned up to adopt you. Their ‘nephew’ Gregor with them.” 

“Fantastic” she grimaced. “Nice of the state to do its due diligence.”

“And you never knew your birth parents?” he asked. 

“If I did I don’t remember them,” she said. “I never really looked either, I was too busy laying low. The sisters said I was left at the orphanage, unwanted because of my hair.”

“A one Yohn Royce and his wife Anya, maiden named Waynwood” Snow grabbed a few papers and pushed them towards her. On the top was an old photograph of a young couple, both smiling into the camera. The man was tall and broad, his hair a vibrant blonde, the woman had vibrant red hair and her cheekbones...

“These” she swallowed. “These are my parents?”

“From what I can find, yes” Snow nodded. “They were killed in a car accident when you were three, you were in the system until the Stones adopted you. You were born Alayne Royce in the Vale.”

“Wow” she touched the photograph. “I had wondered….”

“You were not surrendered, Special Agent Stark, you simple had no other family” he told her. 

She swallowed back a wave of tears, “May I keep these?”

“Of course” he nodded. “Now, tell me about your relationship with Commander Lannister?” he asked. 

“We dated exclusively for nearly thirteen months,” she replied. “I loved him, but things ended. I care greatly for him but we are no longer together.”

“And Special Agent Bolton?” he asked. 

“We’ve been together for nearly five months now,” she replied. “You already know we fucked, Agent Snow, you’ve read about the sperm---”

“I am covering my bases” he replied simply. 

“Agent Bolton and I live together now,” she continued. “He has helped greatly in my recovery.”

“Your injuries were quite substantial” Snow pulled her medical record from the pile. 

“Tell me about it, I was there” she scoffed. 

“Gregor Clegane very nearly beat you to death” Snow said. 

“He was a henchmen, and good at what he did,” she reasoned with a shrug. 

“Do you remember what happened the day the entry team arrived at the farmhouse?” Snow asked. 

“Bits and pieces” she adjusted herself in the chair. While she was all but fully recovered, sometimes sitting was uncomfortable on her ribs and chest. “I knew I was on my way to dying, there was blood everywhere. Gregor meant to rape me, regardless of my physical condition. So I was taunting him to buy time, told him that Lysa and Catelyn were also redheads---”

“How did you learn this?” he glanced to his folders. “You’re correct, according to their autopsies.”

“Catelyn’s dye job was bad, her scalp was stained” Sansa explained. “I told him, so when Catelyn returned they argued. They were arguing when the team arrived and shot Lysa. Catelyn then pulled a handgun. Gregor grabbed for it but shoved her aside to confront the FBI but they were both shot. I remember Roose---Agent Bolton, I remember seeing Commander Lannister, but I don’t remember much after that.”

“And the girl in the basement, do you know anything about her?” he asked. 

“I didn’t know she was there until weeks later when Roose---Agent Bolton told me,” she answered. 

“You can call him Roose, Special Agent Stark, I have known him for a long time. He was my training officer when I started in the field” Agent Snow gave a smile. “I consider him my mentor.”

“Alright” she gave a nod. 

“I have left you a pad and some pens, if you could give a written statement that will be all I need for the files” he told her. “I will leave the door open for you and I’ll be back in an hour or so?”

“Alright” she said once more as he stood, leaving her to her work. 

“Ramsay” Roose greeting the younger man with a handshake. “How is she?” Roose asked, motioning to the interview room. In his hand he carried lunch for Sansa and himself, knowing that she would be hungry soon and she didn’t do well when she was over-hungry. A result, he deduced, of being starved for long periods of time as a child.

“I checked on her a bit ago, she needed another notepad and some water” Ramsay replied. “She has written quite a bit.”

“I am sure, she spent fifteen years under lock and key” Roose nodded. “Once this is behind us we can all move forward.”

“I would guess within the month everything will be closed” Ramsay nodded. 

“Thank you for all of your work” Roose patted the younger man’s shoulder. “This case, I know it wasn’t easy to stomach.”

“You know me, stomach made of iron” Ramsay chuckled and wandered back down the hall. 

Roose knocked on the door jamb as he entered, Sansa looking up at him with a smile, “Hey” she greeting. 

“Hey yourself” He kissed her quickly before sitting across from her. The table was covered with papers, flat and crumpled alike. Clearing a space, he set the brown bag on the table, opening it to pull sandwiches and chips from inside. 

He couldn’t help but find she looked adorable with her short, fiery hair. The color suited her so much better than blonde and now that she had foregone her heavy makeup as well, her porcelain skin was bright and healthy. She was simply stunning. 

“You read my mind” she set her pen aside to take hers. 

“I know how you get when you’re hungry” he chuckled. 

“Are you implying that I am crabby when I am hungry, Doc?”

“Absolutely” he replied. “How much longer do you think?” he asked, glancing to her papers.

“An hour? Two? Maybe more” she said, unwrapping her sandwich to take a bite. 

“You okay to sit that long?” he asked, tone suddenly serious. 

“I will be okay” she gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Don’t overdo it, yeah?” he asked. 

“I won’t” she playfully rubbed his calf with her foot under the table. “You’ve spent the past three months worrying about me, I am okay, Doc. I wasn’t, but I am now.”

“You can’t stop me from worrying, I care too much about you to shut off ‘worrying’,” he told her as he unwrapped his sandwich. 

“Sounds suspiciously like love, Doc” she said quietly, watching him as she took another bite and chewed. 

“It does, doesn’t it” he replied with a smile of his own, memorizing her blush as he tucked into his own lunch. 

“Knock knock” Sansa smiled as Tywin looked up from his paperwork, surprised to see her. She had spent the entire day in the interview room writing down everything she could remember from the age of 4 onward. Fortunately, Roose had provided a lunch and a bag of snacks or she would have been a super-crab by now. She had gone to their office to look for him but he was still in the lab, so she had a bit of time to kill.

“Well, well” he stood and came around his desk to hug her. “Snow finally coerced you into giving a statement, huh?” 

“Tenacious little shit, he is” she hugged him back before moving away to sit in the chair across from his desk. “I forgot how comfortable this chair is,” she laughed. 

Tywin smile and sat behind his desk, “How are you feeling?”

“Better” she nodded. “Out of shape, sluggish but much, much better,” she chuckled.

“Gave us all a good scare” he frowned slightly. 

She nodded, “Gave myself a good scare, I was fully prepared to goad him into killing me.”

“Then it is fortunate we arrived when we did” he noted. 

“It is. Man hits like a freight train. So, you and Roose have become quite the dynamic duo, I hear” she smirked. “Sounds like I have been replaced.”

“Never” he laughed. “I am fairly certain, between the two of us, we have made more agents cry than the physical training courses.”

Sansa laughed, “That is saying something, right there.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked and her smile fell. 

“I don’t know” she replied honestly. “I have been trying to get medical clearance, talking to FBI doctors and shrinks, its slow going. I am not sure if they will approve me for field duty.”

“You’re more than welcome to work in-house, even in the lab,” he suggested. “I know you’re dedicated to your job, I will do what I can to help.”

“Thank you, Ty” she smiled.

They talked for a while, until Roose poked his head in to check on her, letting her know that he would be able to take her home in a few minutes. 

“You’ve domesticated him” Tywin chuckled as Roose went to drop his things in his office. “The terrifying mad scientist of the FBI is your lap dog.”

“I can take no credit” she laughed softly, standing and carefully stretching. “I will let you know about the lab, I should be hearing from the doctors either way soon.”

“I look forward to having you back” he told her, hugging her goodbye as Roose returned. “Take care of her” he warned Roose who scoffed. 

“Of course” Roose laughed, taking her hand so they could make their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, take this....
> 
> [Love youuuu](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187274599686/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

“Hey” Roose whispered as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her against his chest. She had been standing in the large window in their bedroom, watching the darkness descend on the park. 

“Hey yourself” she smiled, placing her hands over his. She never felt as safe as she did in his strong arms; arms that protected and cared for her. In the past months he had carried her to the shower, to bed, to eat (even fed her when she was too weak to do it herself), brushed her hair, held her while she cried and he had never once faltered. The terrifying ‘Mad Max’ of the FBI, the man they called in to deal with the sickest of the sick had personally seen to her recovery and that warmed her heart.

“I am proud of you” he kissed her shoulder, just over the strap of her nightgown. “I know today wasn’t easy, but you did it, and gave the agency everything it needed to close the case.” 

She took a shaky breath, “Ramsay found my parents” she whispered. “They died…”

“When?” he asked. 

“When I was three” she leaned against his strength. “They didn’t give me up.”

“No one would willingly give you up” he smiled against the skin of her shoulder. 

“My mother had red hair” she smiled to herself. “I get my height from my father” she took a deep breath. “I don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Never again” he agreed. 

She took a deep breath, “I am in love with you, Roose” she said softly. 

“I am in love with you, Sansa” he replied. “I have known it for a while.”

She turned in his embrace, her arms going around his neck and shoulders, “I love you” she smiled into his impossibly blue eyes. 

“Good” he said softly. “It will be easier to convince you to marry me.”

“Roose” her breath caught in her throat. 

“Special Agent Sansa Bolton” he whispered, kissing her briefly. “Dr and Dr Bolton.” 

“If you’re teasing--”

“Never” he kissed her, holding her tight and parting her lips with his tongue. 

Sansa sank into his touch, the very feel of him as they kissed. The broad planes of his chest cradled her body, his strong arms banded around her and she never wanted to leave. 

They moved towards the bed, discarding their night clothes along the way and falling to the covers together. His hands ghosted over her flesh, trailing past the surgery scars on her stomach and sides, cupping her hip and pulling her against him. 

“Roose” she reached between them to stroke his cock. “Please” she pleaded. 

He rolled to his back, pulling her with him and then astride his lap. She was already wet for him, and aligned him with her opening and sank onto him with a sigh. 

After her stay in the ICU and her body began to return to normal, she had started taking the pill, never wanting to see another condom in her life. Even the thought of someone going through their hotel garbage made her want to throw up. Roose didn’t argue, they both greatly enjoyed being able to feel each other, skin to skin. 

“I will never tire of the way your body feels around my cock” he said, looking up at her with a smirk. 

“It’s alright” she teased, bracing her hands on his chest and rocking her hips. She bit her lower lip as she groaned, the drag of his cock against her walls sending shivers through her. He felt incredible, her mad scientist.

She rode him with languid vigor, a steady pace that allowed her to admire him as she moved. Her Roose was all broad muscle and piercing eyes, watching her as if she were the most fascinating creature in the world. 

“Sansa” he groaned as she ground against him. His hand moved to her folds, deftly parting her to find her clit, teasing her mercilessly.

“Fuck” she flexed her hands against his chest, her fingers digging into his flesh. 

“That’s it” he coaxed her. “Let it go, come for me.”

A few moments later she cried out, stilling over him as her body clamped around his. She felt him tense beneath her, his body giving into the call of hers and pouring into her. 

“Shit” she collapsed across his chest, his hands moving to smooth across her back before tunneling into her short hair. 

“Marry me” he asked, his voice rough from passion. 

“Roose?” she pulled back to look at him. 

“I don’t have a ring, and it's not the most romantic of proposals, but I want to marry you, Sansa, more than anything,” he told her. 

“I don’t care about rings and empty gestures,” she smiled. “I’ll marry you” she told him. “Doctor and Doctor” she kissed him. 

“Doctor and Doctor” he held her tightly, smiling as he kissed her back. 

“That’s her” the whispers reached her ears as she walked through the crowd to the firing line. 

“She fucked Lannister? She’s too young” another voice reached her and she grimaced in anger. Turning she shot the smaller blonde man a harsh look, pleased when he shrank away from her glare.

She pushed the gossip and stares to the back of her mind as she looked to the range master and nodded. Her hair, nearly shoulder length now, was pinned back and out of her face. She had been working hard for months to get here. Doctors, therapists, every one of them poking and prodding her out of her comfort zone. 

Test after test, day after day, she pushed herself to the brink of breakdown with the hopes of being able to wear her badge once more. 

She glanced to the ring on her left hand, a simple gold band with a diamond solitaire that caught the light as she moved. She smiled briefly, knowing that on the inside of the band “Always” was engraved. Roose Bolton, her fiance, she smiled. Who would have guessed. 

The signal went off and she moved, pulling her gun from its holster and working her way through the course; firing, moving and then firing. She focused on her targets and the task at hand, dropping the magazine and quickly reloading until she completed the course. 

Holstering her weapon she stood still, allowing her eyes to close as she settled her heart and breathing. 

“98” she heard the call and she breathed a sigh of relief. Almost perfect. Good enough that she would be reinstated. Hopefully. 

“Stark” the range master called out. “Pass.”

She gave a nod and moved back through the crowd, grabbing her jacket and pulling it on over her vest and holster. 

As she walked toward the elevators she heard the blonde man speak again and she turned, “If you have something to say, you little shit, say it to my face” she spat. 

“Hey---” the blonde man’s friend cut in. 

“You gonna fuck your way to the top?” the blonde man asked. “Lannister? Bolton? Who is next, Director Targaryen?” he said and the others laughed. 

Sansa laughed, moving closer and clapping him on the shoulder, “Funny” she hauled back so fast he never saw it coming. Her fist connected with his jaw and sent him to the floor. “How disappointing, little bitch” she stood over him. His friend stepped in and she side stepped his gasp, kneeing him in the groin and sending him staggering backwards. “I thought FBI agents were tougher,” she laughed. 

“Stark” the range master called out. “Enough” he warned her and she stepped away from the two ‘men’ and the crowd. 

“Bitch” the blonde man grabbed his jaw and winced. 

“Go fuck yourself” she told him and then turned away, leaving him to his wounded pride. 

“The director will see you now” Sansa stood as the secretary spoke, carefully adjusting her suit jacket before moving into the office. Aerys Targaryen was an older man with silver-blonde hair and a certain madness in his violet eyes. 

“Stark” he greeted her as she entered, then sat across from him at his desk. 

“Director Targaryen” she nodded, sitting carefully and crossing her ankles. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, though she could tell by his tone that he didn’t give a damn. 

“Fine, sir, yourself?” she asked. 

“Fine, fine” he opened her file, flipping through the papers. “Passed your physical, passed firearms” he paused. “Let’s talk about your psych eval” he looked to her. 

“Sir?”

“You’ve been through a lot in your life, and in the past year,” he said. 

“Yes, sir” she replied. 

“And yet you’re still standing” he noted. 

“I am, sir,” she nodded. 

“I won’t waste your time, Stark” he closed the file, slamming his hand over it. “I am not going to reinstate you, you’re a liability--”

“Sir---”

“You’re smart, you’re beautiful, but you’re not going to be an agent on my team,” he told her. 

“Director Targaryen” she protested. “I have done everything asked of me by any physician or instructor, I have---”

“You’re a liability, Stark” he interrupted her. “At this point in time, I invite you to be successful elsewhere,” he said flatly. “You are no longer a federal employee.”

“You know what” she laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck you” she stood and pulled her service weapon free, unloading it with a practiced move and setting it on his desk. “Fuck. You.” 

She was supposed to meet Roose afterward, to celebrate her reinstatement, but instead she stormed to the parking garage and got into her car. She drove for hours, ignoring her phone and just trying to focus her thoughts. She had worked her ass off, and now she was unemployed. 

“Fucking stupid” she laughed, shaking her head as she drove along the water. A box on the side of the road caught her eye, had it moved? She slowed to a stop, parking quickly before exiting and making her way down the abandoned highway. 

Crouching she opened the box and found two puppies looking back at her, all pale fur and bright eyes. 

“Hey guys,” she smiled, her rotten mood forgotten as their tails wagged. “How about we go home?” she laughed, scooping them out of the box. She hoped whoever dumped them on the road would rot in the seven hells, no animal deserves to be abandoned. The puppies wiggled in her arms as they tried to lick her face and she smiled, setting them on the front seat. 

Sliding behind the wheel she pulled back onto the road and headed towards home. 

Roose called her for the hundredth time and once again it went right to voicemail. He sighed, setting his phone on the counter and wiped a hand over his face. Word had spread like wildfire and as soon as he heard he tried calling her. Director Targaryen hadn’t reinstated her, had fired her and she had stormed from the building. 

It was nearly dark now and he was worried that something had happened to her. She had worked so hard, he couldn’t imagine how she was feeling. 

The sound of her keys in the lock had him moving toward the door, arriving in time to see her step inside, a puppy under each arm. 

“Sansa” he moved to hug her. 

“I’m sorry, I just….” she shook her head. “I didn’t expect to be fired.”

“I know, I am so sorry” he cupped her cheeks. “Is there anything I can do?”

She shook her head, “It's alright. I will go talk to Chief Baratheon tomorrow, I have a standing offer from him to join his team should I ever tire of the FBI. Whether or not he was serious remains to be seen. Though he’s always serious...”

“Local police, eh?” he asked. 

“Better than nothing,” she said. 

“I agree” he leaned forward to kiss her softly and then felt the tug of a puppy chewing on the sleeve of his shirt. 

Sansa laughed, her eyes bright with amusement, “I found them in a box on the highway near the water,” she held them up. “Aren’t they precious? Brothers!”

“Then the day wasn’t all bad, I see” he scratched one behind the ears. 

“Our first kids, Roose” she laughed. “What should we name them?”


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) , [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187274599686/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

“What have you done?” Tywin shoved open the door to Aeys’ office, ignoring the protests from the secretary behind him. 

“I will have to call you back” Aerys spoke into the phone before hanging it up. “Tywin, I’m sure you're here about Stark.”

“You fired her?” Tywin glared and Aerys stood from his desk, trying to be less intimidated by the Great Lion. Unfortunately, Tywin was much taller than the older man, so it didn’t have the desired effect. 

“I did” Aerys said. “She will not work on _my_ team.”

“She is a good agent---”

“She punched my son in the firing range, did she tell you that?” Aerys glared. 

“Viserys had it coming, I am sure. That kid is a shit” Tywin stated plainly. “Firing her was a mistake, she is a valuable asset.”

“Emphasis on ‘ass’, eh Tywin?” Aerys laughed. 

“Any grudge you have with me should not extend to Stark” Tywin argued. 

“There is no grudge” Aerys frowned. 

“Says the man who has never forgotten that he was number 2 to my number 1 in the academy” Tywin chuckled. “You fired Sansa Stark because she slept with me, Aerys, so you can go piss up a tree.”

“Being good in bed doesn’t qualify her for field duty” Aerys stated. “She is a psychological liability.”

“I’ve always thought you were the stupidest sort of man, I cannot imagine why Attorney General Tyrell allows you to remain in office” Tywin scoffed. “But you can trust I will be speaking to her about this at our luncheon tomorrow.”

“Are you threatening me, Lannister?” Aerys’ face fell. 

“Not at all” Tywin gave an easy smile. “You won’t make it to your 10 years of service as the director, I can promise you that. Might as well pack your desk now.”

With that, Tywin stormed from the office, glaring at the secretary on his way out. He’d read the files, he’d read the reports, all of them recommended that Sansa be reinstated. The fact that Aerys fired her was complete madness. 

Making it back to his office, he slammed the door, more than ready to burn this agency to the ground to prove a point. 

“Sansa Stark” Police Chief Stannis Baratheon stood as she entered his office, extending his hand, which she shook. 

“Sir, long time no see” she smiled. 

“Which is good, that means I don’t have feds breathing down my neck” he gave a crooked sort of smile as they sat. He was a handsome man, she supposed, this tall and lean form made imposing in his uniform. She had known him for several years now, having made his acquaintance at a crime scene over a dead body. 

“Well, I’m not a fed anymore” she handed him a copy of her file, all tests and evaluations inside. “Director Targaryen ignored the recommendations and fired me.”

“Did he?” Stannis frowned, taking the file. “Has he officially lost his mind then?” 

She laughed, “It would seem so.”

“You want a job? Finally going to surrender to my will?” he asked. 

“I want to make sure, before I apply, that there is nothing in my file that will disqualify me” she said. “I trust your review and if everything is in order, yes, I will join the team.”

“Fantastic” he gave a curt nod. “Give me to the end of the week, I will have an answer for you” he told her. 

“Thank you, Chief” she stood, shaking his hand once more. 

“No, thank you” he told her. “And congratulations, it seems it won’t be Stark much longer” he looked pointedly to her left hand. 

“Thank you” she smiled at her ring. “Will be Bolton soon enough.”

“As in...Dr. Roose Bolton?” Stannis looked surprised. 

“That would be him” she replied. 

“Finally got him away from his knives, eh?” Stannis smirked. 

“Not really” she laughed. “Boys will be boys.”

Sansa was jogging down the sidewalk with Royce and Rogar, the two white labrador puppies she had found, who were already well on their way to full grown. According to the vet they were only a few months old when she found them, both in great health. Sansa and Roose were both suckers for the dogs, and since she’d found them Roose had the honor of naming them. Hence why they were named for great flaying kings of ancient Westeros. 

Turning the corner she smiled at the sight of Roose leaning on his car. He was waiting for her, looking handsome as ever in his navy blue pea coat and glasses. 

“There’s dad! Let’s go get dad” she encouraged the dogs and they ran to meet him. Roose pet both of the dogs before kissing her, uncaring that she was a sweaty mess from her run. 

“Look at this” he smiled, touching her small ponytail. “It’s getting so long.”

“I know” she smiled. “You’re home early, does that mean I can steal you away for the afternoon?”

“I came to tell you that Director Targaryen has been removed from office by the attorney general” he explained and she frowned, then burst out laughing. 

“Tywin?”

Roose nodded, “There is an old grudge there, I understand.”

“Oh yeah” she agreed. “Let’s go inside. We can make some lunch and relax.”

“I could be persuaded” he kissed her once more, taking the dog’s leads to escort them inside. “So tell me about this grudge” he prompted once they were inside their apartment and he was shrugging out of his coat. The dogs ran to their large beds beneath the windows, making themselves comfortable. 

“Tywin and Aerys go all the way back to the academy” she explained, grabbing some water from the fridge and taking a drink. “So chances are I was fired because Tywin cares about me.”

“That’s not legal” Roose frowned. 

“No” Sansa agreed. “And I am sure Tywin will raise hell, as he has already begun to” she set the bottle aside. “Roose, darling,” she pulled off her tank top as she kicked off her shoes. “You’re home at noon on a work day, do you really want to talk about Tywin and Aerys?”

“Absolutely not” he replied quickly, pulling her into his arms. Sansa’s laugh vanished as he kissed her, delving into her mouth without preamble. She climbed her fiance like the most delicious tree, arms around his shoulders and when he lifted her, her legs wrapped around him as well. 

He carried her to the bedroom, both of them collapsing across the bed in a tangle of limbs and groping touches. Clothes were shed, tossed to the floor in their rush and when Roose rolled her beneath him, he pulled the tie from her hair to run his hands through the bright locks. 

“Beautiful” he smiled, smoothing the curls.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Sansa rolled him to his back and moved away from his lips. Kissing her way down his broad chest, she stroked the hard length of his cock, loving the way he felt in her hand. 

“Sansa” he groaned, his hands threading into her hair once more, this time to guide her as she lapped and sucked him deeply into her mouth. “Fuck” he hissed, hands flexing in her hair as she moved. She loved watching the stoic Doctor Bolton come apart at her touch, and he ever did so more than when his cock was in her mouth. “Come here” he sat up abruptly and turned her, her knees on either side of his face as she worked him. She moaned around his cock as he parted her folds and lapped at her. 

She nearly cried out when a thick finger slid into her, stroking her as he licked and teased her clit. His cock sprang from her mouth with an audible ‘pop’ as she sat up, riding his face until she screamed her pleasure. 

“Gods, Roose” she panted, shaking over him. 

He wasted no time, guiding her to her knees he moved behind her and sank into her in a smooth thrust. Her body was still trembling from her orgasm and tightened around him, holding him deep. 

“So good” his hand slid back into her hair and held the shoulder-length locks as he fucked her. The sound of the flesh crashing together filled the room, punctuated with gasps and moans of pleasure. Sansa could only hold on to the sheets as he plunged into her over and over, holding nothing back. “Shit, shit…” she smiled as he babbled a string of curse words, sounding like a madman. 

“Come on, baby” she mewled. 

“Don’t---” he hissed in warning, a hand moving to where they were joined, searching for her clit. 

“Don’t?” she smirked. “Come on baby, give me that cock” she pleaded. “Please baby, I want it all..” She smiled as he fucked her harder, his groans now blurring together into a deep growl. His fingers worked her expertly and by the time he slammed deep, pouring into her she was right behind him, pulsing as he sighed in pleasure. 

“Fuck” he pulled back, his body slipping from hers. She felt their juices as they spilled from her body and gasped when his fingers dipped into them, smearing them across her lower lips. “Mine” he promised, smearing their cum over her clit and sending shockwaves through her. “All mine.” 

“Fuck” she gasped as he teased her. 

“Give me twenty minutes, thirty tops, and I’ll take you again” he smirked. “I’m not a young man anymore.”

“Perfect” she laughed softly as he stroked her. “Just enough time to feed me.” 

“Deal” he agreed with a nod.


	14. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for sticking with me on this, my first, Roosa adventure! I had a blast with this pairing, so expect to see them again from me. Stay tuned for more one shots and multi-chapter stories! 
> 
> You can also follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wolf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/

“Bolton!” Roose heard the deep voice barking at him and looked up as Tywin came into his office, Ramsay in tow. “I come bearing gifts.”

“He’s not really my type” Roose grimaced. 

“Funny” Tywin stated. “He’s your new partner, practically begged to work with you on these medical murders.”

“Yeah well he likes knives almost as much as I do” Roose chuckled. 

“Thank you, Director Lannister” Ramsay gave a nod, carrying his things to the open desk. 

“Don’t let me down, Snow” Tywin warned and Roose could see that the Director enjoyed intimidating the younger agent. 

After Aerys was released from his position as Director of the FBI, Tywin had smoothly moved into the position. His first order of business was to offer Sansa her job back, but after lengthy deliberation, and quite a bit of back and forth, she declined. 

She chose instead to take the offer from Chief Stannis Baratheon, allowing her to work patrol in the community and with their homicide detectives to chase down local murderers. She was more than local police could have hoped for, and they treated her well. Though she still occasionally visited the offices, indulging himself and Tywin in too many sweets, she was happy with the local department.

By the time they married, nearly three years ago now, Sansa had already made a place for herself at the police department. Detective Bolton now, she was well-respected by her peers and even taught supplementary courses to other detectives, helping them to get better at their jobs. That of course, led to neighboring departments sending cases across her desk for review, making her something of a crime-celebrity. 

Their paths hadn’t had occasion to cross professionally until his current case, a slew of slayings where the man used medical-grade precision to butcher his victims with a series of blades, had its current victim land in her jurisdiction. 

_ “Feds” Roose heard the local cops warning each other as he emerged from his unmarked car. He chuckled, removing his sunglasses as he made his way into the crime scene. It was an abandoned house on the edge of town, the windows broken or boarded up and a thick layer of dust all around._

_ He followed the sound of Sansa’s voice to the back of the house and a filthy bedroom with a blood-soaked mattress in the corner. She wore her dress shirt, slacks, badge and gun that she had pulled on this morning, but her long, red hair was in a messy ponytail. He had enjoyed watching it grow back, the thick waves stunning as they filled in._

_ “Who called the feds?” she smirked over at him._

_ “Honey, I’m home” he glanced to the body. “My guy?”_

_ She nodded, “Yeah, we’ve only been in this room and hall to the door, any other dust hasn’t been disturbed by us.”_

_ “How kind of you” he replied. _

_ “Yeah, don’t say I never did anything for you, Special Agent Bolton.”_

_ “Wouldn’t dream of it, Detective Bolton.”_

_ “You two start to fuck in my crime scene and I will throw up” the voice of Sansa’s partner, Bronn Blackwater broke in as he chuckled. _

_ “Bronn,” Roose greeted the man, shaking his hand. “You being good to my wife?”_

_ “Bitch runs me ragged” Bronn winked at Sansa._

_ “Better you than me” Roose’s phone chimes, signalling that crime scene techs had arrived. “Well, the Bureau thanks you for your cooperation, we will take over the investigation from here.” _

_ “Yeah, yeah” Bronn grumbled. “I am going to take your wife to lunch, how do you like that?”_

_ “Bronn” Roose met the man’s gaze with a cool expression. “I know exactly where to slice to ensure you will never enjoy those little badge bunnies again. It wouldn’t even be painful, just devastating.”_

_ “Cute” Sansa kissed Roose’s cheek. “We’re going, I will have local clear the call and send the info to you. Don’t be late for dinner.”_

_ “Never” he promised._

Roose looked to the photo on his desk, it was of him and Sansa on their wedding day, his arms around her from behind, his forehead resting against her temple as she smiled radiantly into the camera. Theirs had been a small, quiet wedding that suited them perfectly. For their honeymoon they had travelled to Ireland, back to his home country to see the sights, enjoy the pub and relax. And of course, lots and lots of sex. 

Next week they will have been married for three years and he knew he was going to cave into Sansa’s hints about starting their family. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about them, not that he minded. It was time, he decided, they were both settled in their careers, they had a house on the edge of town and the dogs were grown and would make good protectors. 

“Alright then” Ramsay smiled as Tywin took his leave. Roose jolted back to the present, having zoned out while staring at the photo on his desk. “Where do we start?”

“Start?” Roose chuckled. “You’re months behind. Time for you to read everything from every scene. Starting with that wall” he pointed to the large collage of photos, notes and leads on the opposite wall. “Get to work.” 

“Happy Anniversary, hubby” Sansa’s whisper greeted him as he woke to the early morning light. 

“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Bolton” he wrapped his arms around her, grateful they were both off work today.

“Three years you’ve been stuck with me” she cuddled to his side, propping herself up on his chest to look at him. 

“I don’t feel stuck with you” he chuckled, running a hand through her hair, trying to smooth out the rat’s nest that it was from sleeping and their sexy romp before bed last night. 

“You might” she reasoned. 

“Quite the opposite, I am going to have children with you,” he replied. 

“About that” she nibbled her bottom lip. 

“What?”

“I was going to tell you later today,” she said. “But now works, I mean since we’re on the subject.”

“Gods you’re already pregnant” he laughed, hauling her close. 

“How do you know that?” she laughed. “You and your damned sharp mind!”

“How far?”

“Seven weeks” she kissed him gently. 

“Incredible” he smiled. “My wife is incredible.”

“My husband is no slouch either,” she replied, laughing as he rolled her beneath him, moving the sheets and blankets away. 

He kissed her deeply, her lips parting on a sigh as her legs wrapped around him. He ground himself against her, feeling her fluids as they leaked from her folds and spread across his shaft. 

He loved the way her body responded so readily to his, the way she would cling to him, moan for him. His wife carried his child, there was nothing sexier than that. The man who always felt out of place, weird compared to the rest of the world had found his perfect mate and she carried their child, a being made from both of their blood. 

Braced on one elbow, he trailed a hand to her hip, lifting her to the perfect angle and slid inside of her. 

“Roose” she sighed, her hands in his greying hair. “Fuck…”

“Mine” he whispered, rocking slowly within her. “All mine.”

“As you are mine,” she said, arching beneath him. “My husband.”

He made love to her slowly, savouring every sigh and every touch, imprinting them all on his memory so that he would always be able to remember their third wedding anniversary where she told him he was going to be a father.

He felt her race toward her peak, her body shaking as her breath caught and then she came around him, legs locking behind his back and holding him within her as she cried out his name. He was powerless to stop his own climax, growling deeply as he poured into her. 

“Fuck” he cursed, trying to catch his breath, their bodies still entwined. 

“Mmmhm” she sighed, placing kisses along his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you” he replied, moving beside her but keeping her close. “Both of you.”

“You have to promise me something” she said softly. 

“Anything” he told her. 

“No knives or leeches until they’re a teenager” she smirked. 

“I can’t promise that” he laughed. 

“Roose---”

“Fine, fine” he kissed the tip of her nose. “Does 12 count---”

“No” she laughed, pinching his side. “Crazy man.” 

“I hope its a girl, with red hair like her mother” he cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her cheekbone. 

“Yeah?” she smiled across the pillow at him. “You don’t want a little boy you can teach all about flaying?” 

“I could just as easily teach a girl about it” he reasoned. 

“I suppose so” Sansa replied. “I love you, Doctor Bolton.”

“I love you, Doctor Bolton” he hand moved to her still-flat stomach. “And I love you, Baby Bolton.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187134633576/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) , [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187177946391/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187274599686/bombshell-au-modern-in-which-sansas-new/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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